Part Two - Seth

Bed wasn’t cutting it. The bath had been hot enough to drive the chill from Seth’s muscles and the curtains were drawn tight, but he couldn’t sleep. Achingly tired but wide awake.

Seth gave up, got up and made toast. Flicking on the waterproof radio that was suction cupped to the wall above the sink Seth let the buzz of background noise drown out the voice in the back of his head. It had been there since he’d woken up, whispering away, sometimes too distant to make out, sometimes so close he’d had to fight the urge to look over his shoulder. It had kept him from sleep with its insistent words.

“Up, out, into the world.”

He was up now, damnit, but the voice hadn’t shut up. Eat toast, get dressed, get back out into the world. Maybe that would do it.

He probably shouldn’t have taken the acid. He’d heard all the stories about people walking off the top of buildings or eating broken glass or doing some other self-destructive idiot thing while high, but then he’d met a lot of people who’d taken acid and had a good time. He hadn’t met any of the dead people.

“Not yet,” the voice whispered.

Seth turned up the volume on the radio. It was shaped like a flower, bright yellow and green plastic, and sounded terrible. Its sole virtue was that it resisted the damp and the mould and the splashes from the sink. The DJ was talking about the weather and the harbour, rabbitting on long enough that Seth eventually tuned in to the words.

“…the water, not exactly glassy out there and a few more clouds than we like to see but I’m telling you it’s the best…”

Whatever that DJ was taking sounded a lot better than the after-effects of Seth’s night. He fumbled the lid back onto the peanut butter and began chewing his toast thoughtfully, walking out into the hall and pulling his boots on.

“…dozens of people down here at the waterfront watching the waves, a couple even daring to…”

They’d be giving away prizes soon, no doubt. Show up at the station’s broadcast van and win a free t-shirt. First five women to swim topless win a CD. Seth could just about hear the foam coming out of the DJ’s mouth.

“…this thing waterproof? I’m not gonna get electrocuted, am I? If I’m gonna go, I guess live on air is the way to do it…”

Seth left the radio blaring as he stepped out of his apartment. In the relative quiet of the building’s grimy staircase the whisper came to him, gentle this time, placated.

“Up, out, into the world.”

It sounded so happy that Seth couldn’t help whistling to himself as he headed down the hill into the valley. A walk through town would be just the thing.