Everything else was quiet. As I lay on my back, breathing quietly, my eyes shut, I was reminded of pirates. I’ve always liked pirates. Pirates never wear much clothing – or at least in the films I’ve seen – presumably because where they are it’s always warm. And it was just that thought that woke me up to the fact that perhaps I wasn’t a pirate after all and that the water gently lapping all around me couldn’t possibly be the Caribbean. It was icy cold – definitely more English Channel than Sargasso Sea. How odd, I thought. But I was having trouble waking. It just seemed so much easier to go back to sleep – and I no doubt would have if a particular image hadn’t come to mind. It was of a black, long-tentacled, fast-moving torpedo of filth and disease – and it was heading my way. That got me awake. Good thing, too, or we would have drowned. Because, wherever we were, the water level was rising – fast. I couldn’t see anything except for a silvery reflection far off to the right somewhere.
What do You think about A Crime Of Fashion (2013)?
