Twice Cursed by Neil Gaiman

Author:Neil Gaiman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

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Night fell and Frank paced his room, from the windows to the radiator, back and forth. The carpet looked as if it had been worn down by the similar movements of previous inmates.

Neither of his friends, Nigel or Mike, would help him out with a sofa to sleep on: girlfriends were cited as reasons in both cases. Cheers.

Frank had twelve-hour shifts across the next three days, so looking for a room was not an option he could pursue in the morning. As a temp he could not afford to lose the money by taking a day offwork. He’d have to stick it out at The Angel for a few more days. Maybe return to his room late after work and keep a low profile for a bit. When the shift pattern concluded he could find a new place and split.

Worn out by his nerves and thoughts, Frank placed the office chair under the door handle and flopped onto his bed.

Sleep came quickly. Sleep hectic with dreams.

He saw a fat man stood by a window that opened above the pub’s sign. The room must have been situated at the front of the building. The man fed pigeons and shouted, “Bitch, fucking bitch” at most of the women who passed in the street below.

In another room similar to his own, an old man crawled in circles on the carpet. His false teeth were lost and the host of a quiz show spoke about angels to him through the window of an old television.

In a chaotic and nonsensical carousel of what resembled excerpts from a seemingly unending collection of ethereal footage, his own room was featured several times. The carpet was brighter and the walls not so sallow in each brief episode. In one scene he vividly dreamed of a bearded man with a thickly haired body lying on the bed. A yellow candlewick bedspread covered him to his stomach. In one hand he held a two-litre bottle of vodka. The man stared at the ceiling with what looked like revulsion and terror.

In another dream a yolk-eyed drunk also appeared in the same bed. This time the mattress was partially covered by a tatty purple sleeping bag. The man sang a music-hall song while someone shouted “Cunt!” through the door. In that scene there was a strange sound too with no visible source. It sounded like a large bird was stuck inside the room and was beating the walls with its wings. Either that or the creature was desperately trying to flap its way inside.

Frank awoke and sat up in bed. His face was wet with tears. He was exhausted. Shaken by the dreams, he didn’t go back to sleep. He got up and dressed in his security guard’s uniform.

It then took him a few minutes to summon enough courage to open the door of his room and to enter the dark passage outside. He urgently needed to empty his bladder.

As he came out of the bathroom, and before his scrabbling

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