The Walrus and The Doctor
The mist cleared before him. Was it real mist in the air or just a mist before his eyes?
Nocturnal chirps of forest life filtered through the bare trees – a milky moon hung by a crescent in the velvet black sky.
Only one moon?
Home! He must get home!
Why?
To tell them all what he had seen, what he had done before he...before he...
Before he...forgot.
Forgot what?
His brain was burning white hot with the ideas and the inconceivable concepts he had...
...or had he...
...witnessed?
How did they all fit in there? Why did his head feel like it was bigger on the inside?
Home at last.
The door was open – he had left in a hurry.
Blue.
He couldn’t remember.
Blue. It was a Blue Box. Blue.
And that strange little man who had shown him...what?
Who?
White.
The room was now white. Everything was white.
He sat at the piano, the unseen and unremembered spinning behind his eyes.
He closed them and placed both hands on the keyboard. Played a chord and then realised. He didn’t have to remember.
He had to ‘Imagine...’
