Float

Leave the house.
Now.
Out of the front door, turn left,
walk ten paces along the pavement.
On your right you will see a red Ford Fiesta,
ninety-four plate.
There are bubbles of orange rust along the bottom of the driver’s-side door.
The door is unlocked.
Get in.

A faded green air freshener
the shape of a Christmas tree
hangs from the rear view mirror.
Pull down the sun visor,
the key will fall to your lap.
The car is in neutral.
Start the engine.
You will note
a strong smell of petrol.

Reach into the glove box
find the yellow balloon
and a black felt-tip pen.
Blow up the balloon to its full capacity,
Tie the opening, feel the tightness in your cheeks.
Click the lid off the felt-tip,
Draw my eyes, draw my nose,
draw my mouth, onto the balloon.
Be kind.

Place the balloon on the passenger’s seat.
The balloon is me.
On the dashboard
there is a packet of cigarettes
and a small box of matches;
one cigarette
and one match left.
Wind down the window one full turn.
The window is stiff.

Light the cigarette,
place it between your lips.
Flick the still-lit match out of the window.
Christmas Crackers
Nineteen Ninety-nine
is in the stereo.
Press play.
You will recognise the song,
Last Christmas by Wham.

Now, you are ready.
Put the car into first gear,
pull away slowly;
don’t let me fall to the footwell.
Drive me quickly but safely
to Whittlingham Broad.
When we arrive
slide me underneath your jumper
like an unborn child.

Get out of the car.
Carry me tight at your belly
Under the large oak tree
beyond the green bench
to the water’s edge.
Straight ahead
you will see an old wooden jetty.
It looks unsteady
but it will take our weight.

Look around you, wait.
When you are certain no-one can see you,
walk to the end of the jetty,
sneak me out from under your jumper
and place me onto the mirrored water.
Turn away, and walk briskly
back to the car.
Do not run
and do not look back.

I must learn to fend for myself.