The view from down the rabbit hole
They say life is a series of moments. Some pivotal some fleeting. The fear in a childs eyes, the despair in the dying, the hope in a birth.
But those moments may happen decades apart. The irony is a single event can play them back all in parallel, simultaneously in a nano second, like a high voltage shock, triggered by anything. Something as simple as looking in a mirror or the sound of a childs cry. Thus it is little wonder sometimes people can just overload and snap. Fall into that mirror, that eternally looped moment. More disrurbing is you may be the trigger, or the stop by a simple word or action.

Two flat tyres and the batterys goosed so our google celebrity is stuck in her roost.
It's that or hike like a pack horse to Tesco.
But her Jimmy Choos wouldn't survive the hill and the neighbours would wonder who's she going to see.
For the lockdown blues have hit home and the BMW is closer to sold!
Of all the times it chose to fail, it picked when a virus had taken over the world!
But all's not lost, Madame has a plan!
For she knows of a baldy man.
Well he had hair once and shaved it off. Not his best move if we're honest.
But still he came and she hid from afar as he gave her tyres some much needed air.
It was all so quick the neighbours missed it, even the twitcher in number six.
Her tyres inflated, she's had a jump, not that kind, her battery was f#####.
So doors all locked and best foot forward, to be fair she was feeling awkward. He wasn't a knight and had no horse and his volvo looked like it had been in the wars.
She braced herself and jumped in the car and off she shot to the local shops.
A perfect end to the oddest of days with a car full of shopping and the wind in her hair.

A rare thing for me to invite them.
A guest I seldom see.
But after today I needed them and they me.
We started of quite quickly.
Then settled to a pace.
Now all that's left.
Are the remains of the day.

I closed my eyes tight to see if I could remember your face.
To try and remember a face I may never have ever seen, or am yet too see.
All I saw was millions of lights as though racing through my thoughts, traversing the universe at light speed on a journey within my consciousness.
I was once told I would meet my soul mate.
We all do.
But you may not know it's them. For your paths may cross at the wrong time or maybe in another life past, or to come.
I often pondered that.
Now as I race through the universe I find I have no soul.
Oh I have compassion and empathy and I have known love in many ways.
I feel sometimes more than I should, often, not enough.
But a soul?
No, to know you have a soul it has to be touched, or torn from you by another, or if they are indeed your soul mate shown to you.
The others are not the lights I seek, they are but the darkness collecting others very essence or to revive or feed their own.
So I close my eyes.
I hope not for the last time.
As tonight I continue my journey.
Will they join me?
Only they know.

Stay in they said just don't go out, for a killer lurks all around.

It has no hood no knife or gun, it cares not if you are all alone.

It sticks to things then sticks to you with an oily touch its entered too.

You weren't held up or abused, because your clothes flattered you.

This was different you couldn't see the abuser entered you unseen.

You simply got to close to another, the killer now made you its host.

At first the damage may not show as the killer divides inside and grows.

You may shake it off and never know, yet **** the ones you love at home.

For this killer can't do it all alone, it needs conspirators to plan it's roam.

Like a hitcher it needs a ride, but can't if you just stay inside.

No host and like a stranded soul on a desert island it will die alone.

So wash your hands, Stay at home don't be a killer on the roads.

Walk the dog on your own, and keep your kids busy at home.

Who knows you may be the one, this silent killer....makes their own.

Oh we have danced in the discotech with partners of all nations when after liberation we all danced to the songs of liberty. Under all our flags united. As time went by we stopped dancing and others came With new music and one flag. But like mods and rockers they could not dance together and fought away from the sound of the music. Now the only tunes played are national anthems as rebel rousers for dancers, who don't dance and don't know the words to the songs. Cries of patriotism yet dressed as nationalists.
Calls to arms were peace held a fragile embrace like the elderly tangoing.
Now the new dancers don't dance.  They sit on the edges of the room causing fights.
Soon the discotech will bar our entry and then when others are barred too, Groups and gangs will form and fighting begin again, like the days before the discotech.
Who will be the bouncers this time.