When I woke, it was dark, next to me in bed was a large person, it was breathing. Behind me was another person, it was breathing and probably also large. I waited till it was light.
I looked around the room, it was bare, just the bed, a table, two chairs, a mound of paper and a padded wheelbarrow. There was no glass in the window, it was just a hole in the wall and so was the door. The two persons were two huge women with very short, fat legs like gateposts.
I explained that I had forgotten everything, I waited to hear the stupid question: What had I forgotten? But no, “Doesn't matter, I'm Twinkle, you're Stevie and you're going to take me to the square. This is Ruby, she's here because she fancies you. Her man Oddie isn't here, so she will have to stay here.”
Twinkle put on a blouse and a skirt, I grabbed some trousers and a T-shirt, Twinkle grabbed some papers and climbed into the wheelbarrow and I pushed her out through the door. It must have been that time of the day, there were many large women being pushed about in wheelbarrows, in all directions.
“Which way?” “Doesn't matter.” We soon reached the square. Twinkle got out and told me to join the queue. “What do I do?” “Just queue up!” I joined the queue of men with empty wheelbarrows. I tried to talk to them, no joy, the most intelligent thing any of them said was “Me Georgie!”
I gave up and shuffled along with the queue. It was soon my turn, a man filled the bottle of water in my wheelbarrow and put a large chunk of white stuff, a packet of crayons and some blank paper into the right holes in my wheelbarrow.
I returned to Twinkle who was listening to some woman ranting on about how to sharpen crayons on a cobble stone. The women clapped. Some other woman stood up and talked about something else – I did not understand a word. The women clapped. Twinkle climbed into the wheelbarrow.
“Which way?” “Doesn't matter.” We soon reached the house, if I can call it that. Twinkle got out and put the papers on the table and sat on one of the chairs, Ruby sat on the other chair. I realised that she had swapped papers with other women at the square. Twinkle and Ruby found the papers very interesting, I could only see childish scribbles.
We drank the water and ate the white stuff, it tasted of nothing. Twinkle and Ruby scribbled on the blank paper, I suppose they needed that for the next day. It grew dark, there was no electric light, there was not much of anything in the house, time for bed.
I took off my clothes and got into bed. Twinkle sat on me. This was not very exciting, I got up, pushed the two of them onto the bed and did what I wanted with them. They liked that, I liked that, at last something not boring.
Just as I expected the next day was just like the last day, every day was the same. I kept my eyes open and watched. The men looked all the same, each had the mental age of one, each had the job of pushing a wheelbarrow for a woman and for supplies, and each got sat upon every night.
The women looked all the same, each had the mental age of three, each had the job of scribbling, each had a man, and each sat upon that man every night. Daytime was warm and light, however no sun. Nighttime was warm and dark, however no moon. It also had the advantage that I could not see Twinkle and Ruby – I could do what I liked with them.
One morning something different happened, Oddie came with his wheelbarrow and pushed Ruby to the square, was Ruby happy. Later he pushed her back to Twinkle's house, obviously he now knew where to go and still did not like being sat upon at night.
That morning I stood in the middle of the square and read out a short story that I had written on a piece of paper with a crayon. It was short and very, very simple, I read it slowly. The women liked it, the women clapped, the women had not understood a word.
The next morning I found the piece of paper, it was covered with scribbles, Twinkle and Ruby had added to it, it was now unreadable, Twinkle and Ruby thought it looked good.
And what was the white stuff? One morning I followed the man who gave out the white stuff. He went to a white mountain and carved chunks off it, the water came from a stream, the crayons from a big heap and the paper too. All very silly!
When was I going to wake-up? Would I ever wake up? Could I do anything more boring?