Snakes and ladders

Why is there a snake at the top of every ladder? There’s supposed to be a few clear squares before a snake, to give you the chance of avoiding it. I don’t think they know the rules here.

A long walk?

What is the other side of the fence? If I get out of the Slough one day when they’re not looking – and they seem to pay less and less attention – is it a very, very long walk back to civilisation? What’s in the hinterland? Or is it no-man’s land? Is there a map? I can see why some people prefer to stay here. Anxiety is a tiresome companion, especially on a long trip.

Ankle-snappers

I wander near the edge of the Slough several days a week now. They seem less vigilant – the pizzigamorte with their big tridents either patrol lazily or don’t care that I touch the fence and look out.

But little black shapes, fleet and cruel, snatch at my ankles with needle teeth and claws at every step. Sometimes they attach, sometimes they don’t. I prise them off, but often leave teeth embedded. Their bodies pile up in the corner of my room. The cleaners won’t touch them. They have to stay, trophies or victims, like me.

Dead things

There are lots of dead things around the Slough. Winter doesn’t help. Too many days spent looking at their little bodies and wishing things could have been different… And then sometimes even the corpse is stolen by a hungry scavenger. Some are taken before they are quite dead, when a bit of warmth might have saved them.

At least I’m not a winter-ravaged carrion-eater stalking the bleak edges of the Slough.

Black feathers in the snow.