Illuminations Unlit

From the top of the tower you could see the world.  Or, at least, the west coast of England as it ran under your feet into the horizon.  The day she visited Blackpool it was warm for the spring and everywhere she went the people would remind each other. The sun played tricks on you – it makes everything seem that little bit more special.  Slowly, she put one foot on to the glass floor and when she felt confident that she wasn’t going to plummet to the ground she placed her other one.  She stood resolute, feet apart and hands on hips; proud that she’d come so far, climbed so high and experienced England’s floating tower.  She reached out to put her palm against the glass window. The panoramic view from the top of the Blackpool tower was a snapshot of life.  Under the sun the water dazzled and seemed to part in a gold abyss.  The roaring waves spilled on to the pavement and she was glad to be in the sky; far from the lights and the hysteria.  She clutched her camera and could see her mother’s face glow when she showed her everything she’d done here.  She longed for home but she knew that they would be proud.

The letters you send get dirty out here.  They’re kind, they tell me nice stories of what you do.  I know you don’t love me though.  You’re with a new man.  The man and woman are different colours and I am both of them.  Their trickly love runs down my back, perspiration in the heat.  You can’t hear the sound of guns like I can; you don’t see the danger that I see.  But that’s what we do: we specialise and it’s survival.  I’ve dealt my last hand, you’re going to miss me when I’m gone.  I have as many chips left as days.