I woke up. I'd never seen the woman lying asleep next to me before. Where was I? It must have been a good party.
Perhaps we had always been in bed together. I do not remember anything, not even my name. But perhaps names aren't useful any more, I don't need one, no one bothers with names, they are out of fashion. How should I know, I remember nothing.
It must have been a good party. I was drunk, I haven't been so drunk for years. I fancied her, she was much older than me. I probably insulted her. She carried me over her shoulder. She threw me in this bed and did what she liked with me. I remember nothing. Did I take drugs, I don't think I take drugs. I have no hangover. I remember nothing.
She spoke to me without waking, without opening her mouth. She told me that I was thinking wrong. I did not understand. I stood up and climbed over the furniture, the desk, the mantelpiece, the bookcase, round and round the room. She told me again that I was thinking wrong. I asked her how I could think right. She said nothing, she continued to sleep.
I took a motorbike and rode round the room. I destroyed the furniture. She told me that I was thinking wrong. I could hear her, though the motor was loud. I rode up the walls as if the room was round, smashing the panes of glass in the windows and the panels in the doors. Round and round I rode, I didn't think that I could ride a motorbike.
I was lying in bed. My head hurt. Thinking is painful. My face is all creased together, my teeth pressed hard together. Why can't I think right? Why can't she help me? She continued to sleep. I counted my fingers and toes, they were all there. I thought so hard that all the glass ornaments in the room smashed. Are my teeth going to fall out? Will I bite my tongue off?
I held onto the chimney and pulled the tiles off the roof. I threw them to the ground. Everything is disintegrating around me – a big explosion.
I was lying in bed. Could I think right now? She spoke to me again, without waking, without opening her mouth. She woke. She held me in her arms and joy.