The Ghost part 20

And she’s doing cuts and colours…
A rhythm of chops, shears, snips
Complete in vibrant gloss style
Us women eating gristle and skin
Puckering with blood stained lips
A cuticle removed by rusting file
Rouge tinged cheeks hiding.

Why do we sleep? What does it do to our hopes and dreams? It always seems so hard to get, yet we find ourselves there in a second without our knowledge. I have always wondered when sleep comes; in which disguise.

While I lived with Glenn we went to Prague for a few days the first week of September. We arrived at the Czech Inn, our backpackers in Vinohrady, on a Tuesday evening around 10pm, having taken the usual bus and tram route from the airport. We were very excited to have ventured out on Jet2 at such a handsome price, this is before budget airlines added lots of additional costs, and had only paid £50 return.
Once we’d chucked our baggage in the shared dorm on the 1st floor, quickly saying hi to our room-mates, we went down into the bar: we were followed down by an American in his 50’s who was also in our room. We needed food quickly as neither of us had eaten recently and I really wanted to take Glenn directly to VinárnaU sudu the labyrinthine bar I had discovered while staying in the Golden Sickle hostel all this years ago and then to Cafebar o2 the converted convenience I’d discovered on my most recent Visit.
I’ve visited Prague and the Czech Republic some 5 times between the time I went with Tom and mum for my birthday in 2001 and most recently while I worked in Sherwood forest at Edwinstowe 2008. In 2008 I spent 2 weeks travelling east around Moravia and south in Bohemia with a brief 2 nights either side in Prague.
Prague was quiet that first night, we got a Mcdonald’s from near or next to the church of St Ludmila in Vinohrady: a glorious brick built neo-Gothic cathedral positioned in the square Náměstí Míru.

The carbuncle of an American all obvious gun-ho bravado and constantly challenging. A self confessed sex tourist, but a manic teacher too, TEFL English as a second language, took us from U Sudu to a dim and often used bar in the underbelly, slimy, sleazy and often used by sex tourists. Always blank eyed, soulless monsters with drooling dribbly ready sneer. In that short time between our arriving and the journey into Nové Město, 2 small 0.4l Pivo Plzeňský Prazdroj (Pilsner Urquell) and that underbelly on Václavské náměstí we were asked to part with numerous Koruna for a already poured third Urquell. We watched the show, the tit parade, the strip, a female dance to entice us to give away more of our moneys in more private affairs.
It was something in the drink, I swear, but I found myself being beguiled by a charming Ukrainian dancer by the name of Alena; slim, toned and every appearance of perfection on her slightly bronzed 20 something body. I know I’d never part with money for any kind of sexual act again, but in Prague I admit I did. The event will remain with me clearly, the cost and the pretend meaning I held for those brief moments of Czech pneumatic bliss. To know that a woman of such beauty had to come to that, however much money she made, and this was one of the only ways I ever spend more than a passing acquaintance with anyone 22, interesting and beautiful again…u

Green grocers on Street Lane is now a deli and The Shoulder of Mutton on Potternewton Lane is now Inkwell.

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