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whole thing was like a
crisis and I had no idea
at first of what I’d do.
A sobering thought: After
a long period of quiet
reasoning I came to see
my need to escape from
the house was not hinged
entirely on my fear of the
other inhabitants. Well
not in the obvious way at
any rate. What I mean to
say is that even if I wasn’t
threatened at the obvious
level because they no
longer thought of me as
the victim I was still very
much at risk. If you spent
too long with any given
set of people there was a
chance you could end up
just like them. That idea I
found terrifying and I saw
I really did have to get out
as soon as I could or suffer
the consequences. So,
the upshot was I was still
very intent on my former
plan, if you could call it
a plan. In fact it wasn’t
really a plan, especially
as I had no alternative in
mind and just consisted
of a surreptitious taking
of the possessions I had
to the local charity shop.
It seemed to take ages to
clear the room. I never
realised I’daccumulatedso
much stuff. But, as I see it
now, this is what happens.
Stuff encroaches, it flows
over. You never notice it
happening. You suffocate
– and yet in a way this
doesn’t seem all that
unpleasant. You feel kind
of comfortable with the
mess, ensconced in your
little rat’s nest kind of
thing. But it wasn’t for
me.
Slowly, gradually, my
room got less crowded
and I saw myself at last,
alone inside it. Lying on