Since the last picture another post has come up… the third now. From the same person – Talx… this time up on Facebook… he’s directed me to the picture using Facebook… there’s a picture of him on his Facebook page – he’s wearing a pink body suit. Wanker.
The picture he posted to me…. is of Dungeness in the snow…
It snowed in February… and this picture was taken then, it isn’t thick on the ground, just a powdering, but enough. Enough to slip under of wheels and slow us as we crept up the road that cuts diagonally across the picture.
Jospehine, Lucinda’s sister, Lucinda’s estranged sister who made that videocall to me in Hellingly, all those months ago. Josephine told me not to tell anyone where I was going, keep it under wraps, hide our tracks. And we did that for months but now it all seems to be leaking out, I don’t know whether it was the radio broadcasts that have stirred things up or whether they knew where we were all along but the things have started happening again.
They know where I am – or at least where I’ve been
Dungeness – a headland in the south of England.
Dungnesss – the site of nuclear power stations and the broken homes of artists and the mass of shingle
Dungeness – look at the picture – we were in Dungness the weird little coastal community of Dungess on the 7th February 2009. If you look closely at the picture – squint – narrow your eyes and crane your head forward – in the centre of the pictures to the left of the lighthouse there is a white van. Next to the van, partially obscured by one of the telephone poles that criss-cross the open expanse of the shingle bank – threading alongside the massive pylons that channel power away from the station –you can see a red car… our car…