Wednesday, 11 March 2009

Section 3, 3

We decided that the only way to find Zig-zag would be to make the Storey institute into a giant toy, cover it in flying tumbling streamers, frozen forever in a delirious dance of joy, breathing in the whole town, and breathing out the shy ghosts of a thousand plumbers, plasterers, and potters and carvers and unicorn-teachers buried in its fabric, and showing everyone the magic of art and love and loss, and that’s what we did and it worked.

Zig-zag appeared, slinking out of the record shop over the road where he’d been living, and he crossed Meeting House Lane and sat down on the pavement and looked up at the shiny metal streamers for a long time before returning to the vinyl 45s and LPs in the record shop where he was loved in a different way, a way he’d become used to and didn’t want to change.

(Am I Fern? Or am I Charlie? Or are we both the same? Have a look at Charlie’s blog for the answer)

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