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Lift

I woke just before my alarm from a dream in which he and I (I think it was him though in my dream the man was taller, almost as tall as Justin Edwards) and another being (I think it was another part of me – a doppelganger perhaps) were in a lift. It wasn’t a conventional lift though, it was more like a cubicle with a half curtain, like they have in swimming baths. The floor was tiled and we were bare-footed. We were trying to get the lift to go up. It juddered but every time he stepped out of it to press the button it shook and stopped.

There is a sock on the road along St David’s Road. It has been there for a few days now. Someone has driven over it for it has been pressed hard into the tarmac. I saw a glove down towards the Prom which had had the same fate.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.