One remaining family member was 97 & in hospital, the other one was having an obnoxious bad time about everything. I'd had to get out the crack house some weeks previously then she shows up again, all full of her own problems & psychosis, ignoring the shitshow sprawled before her because it was someone else's misery. And I'm meant to have empathy? Now? Really? I'll try.

I had the garage key to grandma's & liked to take refuge from the screaming, so I did, but then she called me & in a moment of lustful abandon (against my better judgement) I ditched all my plans & headed for the train station. 'I know, it's hideous' I heard myself keep on saying to her, completely out to lunch. When she saw she was losing my attention, her clothes fell off & we rooted most of the afternoon away. At the end I kind of came to my senses, but having only had a bit to eat that rainy day, all the running about & fucking & fuckery were really starting to take their toll. I think I must've said something wrong. My eyes were starting to dart uncontrollably & I couldn't quite focus on the sexy nightmare by the door screaming about how she couldn't be doing with any more of my hypoglycemic episodes. In a fraught state of low blood sugar, all blissed out on one hand, but flat out distraught on the other, I might have given back the kind of chat I was getting, which is never a good idea. The door slammed & she was off.

Pursue! Eyes wildly jerking everywhere but where I needed them, I tried to get up off the heavily sweated & sexed bed, tangled in something, put an arm out to get the last lucozade pill, failed & collapsed in a bad "I do distraught for breakfast" heap like a baby giraffe. Something about the shit carpet activated me into a 2nd attempt to get up. The sideboards were covered in free cd's & dvd's Liz collected from the daily mail, not that she reads it, she claimed, but these were dusty atop of weird smelling towels which I became entangled with, finally managing to procure the elusive tropical lucozade tablet. A small victory. I muttered some curses & prayers for a moment, then threw myself up to my full height, with sweaty shitlocks getting tangled in the beige dangly nylon light fitting, trying to follow me into the storm.

Fuck off I told it. I had my slippers on. The rain had started again I could hear outside, but sweat & tears of multiple origins were pouring out my face. I grabbed the bannister & threw my disgraceful carcass down the stairs, somehow not falling. Bonus!

One jaffa cake left. Shit. Gotta catch her. Explain. Don't be a dick. Leather jacket covers my nudity ok, I thought, before inhaling the jaffa cake & running in the rain down the road after her. Shit, this is romantic, I thought, as all the nice normal mums & dads ferried their fat kids back from school &/or tesco. And those cunts probably need the entertainment.

By the time I'd shambles sprinted to the end of the street, it became clear it was the school run rush hour. All I wanted to do was find her & explain. Everything else was dead to me. A boulder could understand that. Fuck being on the pavement & road, I thought. Get into the bushes. You're pretty much naked in the rain. A big waft of breeze threw some brambles into my face, hooking my darty right eyelid. I had a bit of a fight with the tangled branches, but the blackberry bush wanted me for itself, not chasing her. Another strong waft of breeze blew open my coat & I had foggy notions that I was flashing the school run traffic jam, with brambles hooked into my right eyelid.

Then I saw the day glo fuckers & angels in their petro chemical vimahna's. The brambles got more wrapped around me & my slippers were mad slippery in the mud. Fuck it. Fall. Make one with the earth.

Fortunately the ambulance was in front of the pigs in the jam, but the cops were the first to move. As I was drifting away, I murmured something about my disease & what was happening that I was trying to fix. I just wanna see Ssssssssssss..!

6 hours later I came to in A&E. They gave me sweet coffee & injections & a pair of paper trousers to walk home in. The walk home was funny. The railway gates went down to let the last brighton train through & I tried invisibility. It became apparent it didn't work, so instead I found myself eyeballing anyone who looked. Small minded cunts. And we eventually spoke.