The neighbour's lights are still on when I zip up the tent. Linda Robertson on channel four lied, it's raining. I wonder how many people she disappoints every day. A window is open, I can hear people talking. I wonder if they can see the tent over the fence. I feel like I'm in my space pod from a distant galaxy. I'm an alien that has landed on a strange planet. There is the sound of distant thunder: I get goosebumps, why? I think my body envisions that I'm in the climatic fight scene of an action movie: Linda is winning throughout but I ultimately triumph. I hear people having sex, probably the ones that were talking before. Music is still playing from the big house on the corner. The pretty boys and girls dress up and frame their bright faces with make up and alcohol. People look louder at night. He comes. What would my alien parents look like? Do they speak english? Do I subconsciously know an intergalactic dialect? A dog is barking. There are sirens in the distance. Dogs probably know the language too. The smell of weed: probably from the lips of the pretty boys and girls. A door opens, the same two. "Let's go somewhere but not with me, introduce me to your insides please." My space pod is not water proof. How will I ever make it back home. I have the undeniable urge to leave and never come back.
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