It could be said that somewhere along the line I took a wrong turn.
At thirteen, I’d come to the conclusion that civilisation (at least the one I was living in) was for the birds. A hoax. A sinking ship. A cardboard cutout representing nothing.
And from there I started out on the onerous path of cutting myself to ribbons.
It could be said I should have learned to like telephones.
I should have punched out JJ on the spot.
Quite probably a few other people as well.
Why couldn’t I have got angry even once?
Or not been afraid of floors?
I could have pleaded guilty and punched out Joe Keynes.
What would he have done?
Put me in a coma?
I should have decided on archaeology.
Some decent profession at the beginning of the book.
I should have taken another flight.
To another country.
I should have invented a cure for diabetes.
I should have stuck up for myself.
And what if all the time I had been awake?
Would I have heard what people were trying to tell me?
A wife calling from the barbecue wanting knives and forks?
A moon not yet out and the surf roaring in like an alien spacecraft?
Kids wanting bedtime stories?