Retromancer

Omally seated himself beside me and stared off into the distance. ‘I am sure great days lie ahead for the both of us,’ he said. ‘Although I do not believe that these days will involve us getting too deeply involved in The Work.’

‘You really think so?’ I asked my bestest friend.

‘Would I lie to you?’ said John Omally.

‘No, I do not think that you would.’

And we sat there together and shared another cigarette.

And we talked of this thing, that thing and the other. And if this had been a movie, rather than real life, the camera would have slowly pulled out from the two of us sitting there, moved back and upwards taking in the Memorial Park, the rows of Victorian terraced houses, the pubs and the shops and the flat blocks and all that is Brentford. And then, perhaps, by some FX cleverness pulled out further, from Brentford to all of London, to all of England and then to all of the world.

And then perhaps off into the darkness of space.

Then fade to the words

Robert Rankin