Coming thick and fast now ,memories of my floating ,it's like greeting an old friend ..a horrible pain in the butt old friend but familiar in a; being stuck in a fog again, and finding my way back type way .
We were flying ,but my hand ,the right hand kept slipping from his ,I was rollling, walking ,you know like the hunch back of Notre Dam(sp) he was running running , kept looking back ,and staring at something over my left shoulder ...the sense of urgency to follow him was so strong, but my head started the roll , I had to pull it together , I'd split again ....he hadnt noticed ...........I cry .......theres a corner coming up , I cant turn right , I yell in my head 'I' ll fall! ' he' s like a panther now ,his outline is a blur ...hes got my hand but not me ...... I 'm swirling so much , like a fairground Spinning top , but no colours, just whirs of black, white, and grey .....thank goodness . ,colours hurt ...he's all white like marble ,hair black , hair flying back ....he's beautiful ...and gone ......always goes and I float to the top to the left , to the left ........to grab my dream of my Mill .