Alexandra Palace at dusk, 2008
…at least it’s the end of the world…
It’s apparently a dream________________I’m at a party where I work, the room is filled with my colleagues and friends and things are relaxed and fun. But I feel like something’s coming ________________ There’s some impending sensation pushing at the inside of the front of my head and I’m waiting for something cataclysmic to happen.
The room is familiar: Part dance studio, part flat. It’s clearly overlooking Covent Garden, but it’s much higher than any of the buildings in the area ________________ The windows are huge and the walls are navy blue and chrome, and I don’t know why that’s important. It is probably the 8th October 2008.
My Mum rings. I’m not really sure what she’s talking about so I describe the scene to her: “It’s like Russell Square Tube Station two summers past: emergency sirens and calm, still people.”
Outside: A wave of darkness ________________ building after building winks out as street lamps and windows loose their lights. _____________ My phone dies. ________________ The room goes dark. ___________ Everyone waits expectant, a hum of conversation begins to thrum up but we really can’t see very much and nobody’s moving.
In my mouth I can taste copper. There’s an electric tinge to the air and my skin feels like it’s on fire, but cold. ________________ Immense pressure, and not really from anything or emanating from anywhere. No noise, except a rushing in my ears. No sense of time.
Through the window, from the same direction the power-cut came, I see a bright light. I know what’s coming as it spills through city streets and between buildings. My vision, as if a screen, becomes ________________ a scream of white.
I awake with a gasp.
© Matthew Sheret, 2008
The Polaroid Press 