Leggings – Conversations in the Dark.

Leggings – Conversations in the Dark.


Well life has a hum when you let things develop and try not to take too much offense. Events spiral on, with prostitution, sex changes, and people in odd places saying odd things being a recurrent dilemma. The families are all represented, and the only decent speaker - although he too offends - is the one who insists on his sex change, in following his father's footsteps.


The churches from Easton & Garveston are still at it too, apparently tricked into selling their homes to fund the torture in order to gain millions back from somewhere. Some nights they wait for a shower of uncut diamonds from when I owned the Diamond mine – I think that was arranged by one of my relations in order to provide me with temporary funds in case all their measures to help me failed. They didn't know of this lot, or perhaps they'd had someone on the committee too – so news got back. Their grief in the money running out is astonishing, mostly at the lack of fun after this is finished. One of the men begged outside of Tesco metro a few weeks back. He still looked respectable then. Heavy built and sad. The staff had to gently persuade him from the door – so that customers could enter. He was down to nothing.


The Kingdom Brunel's were very active in this region, and some of their works have never been recovered, apart from the internal flood plain - there was a sea defense thing built. If we could recover that we might have a better chance of survival. It didn't work properly, as some of his designs were faulty, yet it should have done, so either it needs a re-design or a look at what was built.


There is a shade with the some nights. He too speaks fairly enough, although sometimes in snake language and hisses. I thought at first he was a Demon, yet now I accept that he's not that, nor on their side. He observes. If asked for advice, he leaves.


So there is now a terrible urgency about these people. Some of them claim to be American. As I lay half sleeping earlier a man stood outside the building on the grass. He shone with light. The man next door was telling me stories of what I'd done in my dreams – he thought I'd been out rescuing my family up north. It was hard to believe – that – in my dreams I'd become super wraith! He passed me mind picture of people tied up with twine, and my daughter in the middle of a road somewhere with an oncoming truck... It was all super something stuff. I floated away from him though, towards the light.


This conversation may not be entirely right – due to memory and sleep!


I floated down towards the lit up man. “Hi,” I said, “Is it sorted yet?”

“Nearly,” He said calmly, “The Moonies are about to be identified properly.”

“Moonies?” I said, I was shocked, I mean Moonies, “I thought they were all dead!”

“Most are,” he said, “You've forgotten them, you're telling of the truth has upset the last remnants!”

“Why do people accept them?” I replied grimly, “If they know...”

“Most have forgotten them, and are delighted when they go into a church and begin to change things, its the devotion factor, the knowledge and the power....”


I had forgotten the Moonies! “Did I meet them in America when I was there to study and check out religious groups?” I looked at the man for help.

“You did forget them,” he accused me, “And yet they gave you all the hints. You should have looked into what was said, more accurately.”

I squirmed. I should have taken more notice.

“Did you forget that you owned their house and land?” he went on, “That is why they came.... or so they said...”

I had totally forgotten that. Perhaps had never meant to remember. And did I really? It was a mass murder site. Like castles are really. Is all this a lie? Perhaps someone could look into that too!



He nodded to me, and pointed up, I floated up, drawn towards my recumbent body. The Moonie was still trying to arrange my sleeping dream life, going on about the Army checking out things and taking things out of storage. I suspect he meant the McDonald army or the Kinnear army or the church army. Either or either or both I don't want them at anything. Haven't they lost enough yet?



This war of minds, is more than a conversation in the dark, it involves people, groups and society in a kind of miasma which stops them from identifying what is wrong and how to change things for the better. It makes crime more possible – makes morals and ethics unworkable. How sad that our society has moved from right and wrong to an era of apathy. The churches fell foul of it years ago, and now we are in an even more vulnerable position as it becomes more solid in our society.







maisie angel