Tonight the bongo dykes in 16 beat up a storm of screaming love above apartment 8 and quelled the menacing spirit that reside down there.

story
face mind paralysed a scream a cry for rescue don’t come. Black empty wind blows through energy sucked out or fleeing Psychic terror
Mind flies to apartment 8, new occupant.
Dismembered giant green fist of the Hulk little country porcelain boy and girl trapped in moment of cheap floral sweetness two bejewelled purple-winged dragons dirty golden Buddha plastic wild animals of Africa miniature palm-tree… trinkets, charms to keep unnamed evil out. Or in.
Hatchling needs Piki to wake him before it’s too late he lost in the No-Lands. Knows she’s beside him in THIS WORLD – strange how we know – but sleeping travelling her own unmapped territory. He try to call her back to call him back muffled strangled call pull him out shake him from this struggle.
Drug fucked red haired troll with cruel eyes in 8 and doing something to the Hatchling.
Before she floated into occupy 8 (marquee apartment the face of the set) some God-fearing-charity workers furnitured the place. Mountain-men, do-gooders of the world who pleasure themselves with second hand loves and an eye on death do the heavy lifting: sofa, television, fridge and washing machine. Every THING is in place.
One day this time Hatchling take out his little white bag of rubbish passes large side window of 8. Looking in sees the back of a head of a man sitting on a small two-seater. The head is still. Perfectly. Unnaturally. Hatchling takes out his empty bottles and recyclables and the back of the man’s head just won’t move. He hears talking a dull monotone that’s otherworldly and head is still still. The Hatchling is unnerved the head is sending sick energy out.
Never sees man but the fire-haired troll appears in the apartment. She got that dull methadone tone of voice that cuts to the marrow and she always talking to others by phone or other medium. He hears the talking of the man but the man not there. It was then that the trinkets and charms appeared on window sill – Dismembered giant green fist of the Hulk little country porcelain boy and girl trapped in moment of cheap floral sweetness two bejewelled purple-winged dragons dirty golden Buddha plastic wild animals of Africa miniature palm-tree…
Soon the Troll disturbs Sweet Music Girl (just arrived on the plane) next door at 7 asking for something other than sugar.
Hatchling wakes 3 a.m. with the night terrors the night mare wishing it was as simple as a horse on his sleeping chest. Piki hears his ill-formed inarticulate cries and pulls him out and back to THIS WORLD but the fear crosses over with rolling waves hair stands on end.
They lay there the light on in the hell of a silent night. Dread and foreboding fill the Hatchling. Something bad has happened to someone he knows something evil some psychic terror storm and the image that comes.
He fights to bolster psychic fortitude he fear she is a shape-shifter with split personality demons carving up the territory…
Pikie held him in her arms and held tight and didn’t let go and he felt love and loved.
Hatchling thought the old occupants of 8, the buxom Russian and her deranged security-guard side-kick with a terrible skin condition and a car with breathalyser built in to the ignition were a concern. Drug couriers of some fit, at least they were smart enough not to shit where they eat.
That story later…