The wall shifts in shape, from rectangle, to square, to a skewed rhombus, then back to a rectangle. The vision blurs. Are these tears in my eyes?
The voice beside me tells me what I don't want to hear. The voice is familiar to me by sound, but the words are completely alien. It's though I had crossed a line into a different world.
Even the house - my house - seems foreign to me. I thought the door was on the other side of the room. But it's not. Has it moved? Has it been moved? Who did that when I was not looking?
I hear the words we know this is for the best and we will work things out between us, but they sound like platitudes and not real ideas. And there is someone else in the room too. Someone I never noticed before. And is that the sound of a radio? Or a television? How many voices are competing for my attention? And how much attention do I have left? How much time do I have?
Stronger hands than I can resist seem to manhandle me into position again. They cover me with a blanket. They think I cannot hear, but I can. They think I cannot speak, but I can. They think I cannot understand, but I can.
Something has broken slowly. If only they could understand me I would tell them, but they cannot. They never have been able to. They hide malice with kindness, and deliver the sweet release with the minimum of fuss and concern.
A playlist for the album can be found here.
Titles conceived, composed, arranged and performed by Mike Dickson
(c) 2026, Black Cat Music Factory