Karl. Walking in slow motion. Fog everywhere. In the distance, a large Victorian house looms, penetrating the miasma like in an old Hammer horror movie. The house will devour him, swallow him in one gulp. His heart is beating so hard it hurts his ribcage. He tries to stop walking, but the house’s magnetic grip keeps pulling him in. I don’t want to go there. Please…someone…help… His shoes start tripping him. Too big. He kicks them off, and continues onwards like a zombie. The house is getting bigger and bigger, his fear more acute. Trousers start slipping from his waist. He almost stumbles over them as they slide down his legs. Wiggles out of them. Followed by his underwear. The coat he’s wearing feels like a large gorilla straddling him. It pulls away from him like a leaf in autumn. To his embarrassment, he is now completely naked, but bizarrely getting smaller, thinner. A child. Help me…please…someone.
