Warning. Listen at own risk No. 5

“Are you okay?” That’s me talking to my husband.

“Yeah, babe, I’m fine.” We promised we would never use the word ‘fine’. He is sitting at his desk, but he is not writing. He’s just looking out the window.

 “What are you looking at?” There is nothing out the window, just some swaying trees and a bit of sky.

“Everybody,” he says.

“Oh, okay. I see.”

“Can I suggest another Song of Devastation?” he says. 

“I’d love that,” I say.

“It’s one of my own. Is that okay? Or is that a bit, kind of, you know, conceited…”

“No, I’d love that.”

“Brompton Oratory. I wrote this on a little Casio synthesizer I found in a junk shop on the Portobello Road, years ago. It’s a very despairing song about loss. But maybe my best.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Do you think those Vampire’s Wifers will like it?”

“They better or else!”

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Warning. Listen to this song at own risk. 
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