I don’t recognise these streets or for that matter this particular arrangement of muscular tensions – the whole thing is rather perplexing. Perhaps I am merely tired. Questions hover in the air, like, how would we know if we are in the right listening station? Is there any meaning to the word trust? And what sort of system overload caused David Foster Wallace to kill himself? Of course, this state I am in could be the result of being ‘stuck’ somewhere in the middle of his Infinite Jest.
Recently I was forewarned by the big man on the horse (a retired police officer, if he was to be believed – but who would? And how did he emerge just at that perfect moment, his head seemingly travelling along the top of the hedge, with the slight up and down rhythm of the hedge’s unevenness or if you like, the horse’s walk) as to the dangers lying in wait for me. Later I understood the implications of his words, though by this time, it was too late, I was hurtling down the hill, trying to avoid the worst of the winter’s potholes and praying that no more sheep were being driven along by a sheepdog and a woman on a quad bike, as they had been a few miles back.
You mention the Brothers Karamazov. I must have read that at about the time I was riding motorbikes. Does that go together? Dostoevsky and motorbikes? Sartre and Dostoevsky and motorbikes – the roads to freedom? I have to admit I remember nothing about it – the Brothers K, that is – are you really reading it or did you pick up a quote from somewhere else or open it at random?
Actually one memory comes to mind: heading out somewhere or other in the early morning – destination unknown – on a 350cc Velocette. There I was canted over, into the next bend, only to discover a line of cows crossing the road and I just managed to weave between two of them, imagining I could feel the soft mooey breath of the second and her thinking, rather wearily, oh these young men, they do give a girl a fright sometimes. I couldn’t have stopped and I didn’t look back . . .
On we go.
Psst, actually, do you remember where we left the horses?