ThirteenMichael O'Daly's Magic Lantern, a minute or two or maybe an eternity later
'But you did listen Charlie' Tchort responded in a reasoning, soothing voice, 'you listened to the yearnings of your innermost heart.'
CHARLIE HAS THE SENSATION THAT HE IS WALKING, but as though in a dream. The edges of his vision are blurred, as if seen though glass smeared with Vaseline, colours are distorted, sounds are muffled and indistinct but footsteps sound loudly in his ear.
Is he drugged? He does not know.
Is he alive? He does not know.
Is he dead? He does not care.
The scene coalesces, he sees himself between a row of timber shelves, shelves that are stacked with books, hundreds, thousands of books of all shapes and sizes and subjects. Is he in a library, a public library perhaps? Yes, yes,
