Daniel Meeuws

Although I was mad as a coot, I almost smiled at him. I never could stand his taste in clothes. I nearly shot him there and then. Admittedly, Roger McKay was dressed in an immaculate dinner jacket. But he had fallen for that sickening new fad. You know, my sweet; the range of designer suits by that Japanese, Yamazokizuki- whatever it is. The one who had the bright idea of dinner jackets in colours other than black or white. McKay's DJ was a dark shade of peach, which looked disgusting on a self-respecting business man like himself. I took solace in that fact that, at the very least, this aspect of the loathsome man would no longer bother me. I would put a neat red blossom directly over where his heart lay. It would no doubt seem like he had a red carnation in his breast pocket.

I shall never forget what I have just lived through. The events which took place were not of the kind one can simply push aside. Although I dearly wish I could. I fear the memories will forever linger like phosphorescent sparks cascading through my head, no matter what I do. I don't believe I will ever be able to look at our beloved world in the same way again. It was - how should I put it - a rather hair-raising experience. An experience I would not wish on my worst enemy.