Mind Slip

By Len Morgan

  It was just an absent minded slip, that’s what it was!   Instead of turning right out of the car park, and heading into the centre of Lakeside, I drove straight on past the neon shop signs, into an area I had not visited before.

  I glanced at my watch, it was 17:15hrs.  I was almost an hour early for my appointment and didn't want to appear too eager, so I decided to look around.   Ahead of me, I saw a tall innocuous grey granite building faced with two high smoked glass windows taller and wider than two men standing on the shoulders of a third - at least twenty feet by twenty – how could curved glass be moulded and transported in such dimensions I wondered?   Between them a matching pair of sliding glass doors of similar dimensions waited, closed but inviting, and to the left hung a small sign.   Since I had come so far out of my way I thought I might as well take advantage of the slip, and investigate.

So, I parked my car and headed towards the building.   Closer in I saw the sign read ‘TERMINUS2010’ a few steps further, and I could see shadows moving beyond the smoked glass.   Closer still I could distinctly see groups of people all moving with purpose.

One group dressed in sombre serviceable garb rose, as one, when I entered through the doorway.   Other figures reposed in easy chairs, singly, in two’s and three’s.   Then I saw a larger group moving away from me wearing pale pastel linen clothing.   A third group adorned with studded leather and furs, shod in high laced leather sandals, appearing to be conversing but all I heard were clicks, pops, and whistles, accompanied by highly demonstrative wide arm movements. 

At my approach, all talk ceased, as if somebody had hit a mute button.   None glanced at me directly, but I had the distinct impression I was being observed; an object of silent contemplation. 

At the far end of the high ceilinged hallway, one of a row of ten oversized black gunmetal lift doors opened.   A group of very tall impossibly thin beings, in long black hooded robes, entered the hall through the portal.   Their faces were veiled against casual inspection.  Their guttural speech was alien to me, a language I had never heard before and doubt I shall ever hear again.   Their faces may have been covered but their eyes were florescent violet with flashes of lavender, blues and greens.   Wisps of red yellow and orange Medusan hair peeked out, from beneath their hoods with sensuous serpentine undulations.  I averted my gaze at the thought...  All talk ceased as if someone had called a telepathic command.

  Though I saw nothing untoward in their demeanour, it changed subtly.   I had the strangest precognition of hostility.  Of not being welcome.  As if I’d entered a Freemasons meeting uninvited.  I felt the hackles rise on the back of my neck, I sensed fear and panic welling up inside me, coupled with an irresistible urge to be gone.  I was fighting to stay calm when the aroma assailed my olfactory senses, a foetid scent accompanied by a malevolent buzzing that seemed to emanate from inside my skull, its intensity increased by the moment.  I turned and fled without looking back.

My car was in gear and moving before I realised the buzzing had stopped.   Only then did I venture a furtive glance over my shoulder.   Everything seemed normal, nobody was following me, and I began to feel a little foolish about the whole incident.  All the neon signs were now switched off.  

I glanced at the clock in my car.  I really didn’t have time for exploration anyway, it was 18:40hrs, and I was late for my appointment!  All because of that stupid mind slip.

.-…-.

Saturday morning I sat down to watch the Arsenal v Chelsea match.

"Don't get too engrossed in that, you can watch the highlights at ten-thirty tonight," my wife said.  "I want to see the fashion show in aid of the ‘TERMINUS2010 charity’ being held at Lakeside this afternoon." She switched channels...

We watched eight minutes of adverts, then an announcer appeared:

"We regret to announce The Terminus2010 Fashion extravaganza scheduled for this afternoon has been postponed because of an electrical malfunction yesterday evening.   Sound equipment overloaded shorting out the lighting system and caused damage to a vital control console.  Replacement units are on their way from Paris and will arrive later today.   The show has been rescheduled for ten-thirty tonight, in place of the football highlights..."

"Well," I said, switching the channel, "2 : 0?   We've scored two and I missed it because of a bloody postponed fashion show, and I won't even get to see the highlights.   I could have gone down to the pub and watched it on the big screen..."  I looked closer at the time clock on the TV, seventy-five minutes played, I looked at my watch, 3:15hrs.   "Did they start early?"

June looked at my watch, "You daft bugger, the clocks went forward an hour last Sunday (BST) daylight saving!   It's 4:15hrs now."

"Just a minute," I said.   "the clock in the car is showing the correct time, I listened to the 9 o'clock news on my way home last night."

"I updated the car clock on Sunday when I went shopping." Junes smile was a bit too wide for my liking.

 'So, I ran away from a fashion show rehearsal...' I thought.

 

Copyright Len Morgan