Word of the day: Bodach – churl; goblin or spectre
Weather: yuk
Mood: well…
Got home from work, muddy and soaked. The lounge door was open and I could see Jinjing and Hamoudi hunched over their laptops. Being nosy, I went to try and see what they were doing and they both turned to look at me with haunted eyes.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, I could see composite faces on each of the screens, like something off Crime Watch.
‘Working with an online identikit program,’ said Hamoudi.
‘My dream,’ said Jinjing darkly, ‘the face in my dream, we’re trying to create it.’
‘The man who stands and stares through your window?’ I asked. With all the trouble with the landlady, I’d forgotten about that.
‘I think he was sitting opposite me on the tube this morning,’ said Hamoudi. I tried not to look too confused, but I must have, because he went on. ‘I knew what he looked like from Jinjing. And there he was, the dark haunting eyes, the grey hood, the pointy nose.’
‘And he was going to work?’ I asked.
‘He wasn’t going anywhere, nobody else could see him,’ said Hamoudi. He paused dramatically, then said, ‘He was dead.’
‘Ah,’ I said, I’d forgotten about Hamoudi’s dead people also. I look at the faces they’ve created, Hamoudi’s has a scar, Jinjing’s has a brooding brow and pouty lips.
‘See? They look the same! That proves it!’ says Hamoudi. ‘I saw the man from Jinjing’s dream.’
I don’t point out that they’re sitting right next to each other, looking at what the other one is doing, so it’s not surprising they’re a little bit similar. I also don’t point out that Jinjing’s has no scar and Hamoudi’s doesn’t have a brooding brow or pouty lips. I don’t want to spoil the drama. I creep out the room and make the most of the empty kitchen to cook some pasta.
inkbiotic 