Conrad Gamble

Writer | Director

Stranger than Fiction

Shafts of dusty dawn light poke you in the eye
An image, a flash but no recollection why
Your hair hugs your brain too tightly,
But from the prison of sleep you are just a parolee.

You retreat within, inside those dreaming walls,
The guys behind the eyes react to the curtain call
Playing tales of joy and sorrow in virtuality,
Insane hallucinations cloak themselves in plausibility.

Eyes flicker open, temples thud, thoughts stumble and fall,
You see an old Turkish rug covered in an unknown shawl.
Exotic linens yank at your curiosity,
Whose bed is this? The worrying lack of familiarity.

Cold toes complain outside the main arena,
A breathy warmth, now you can feel her.
A stir, a murmur makes your stomach tighten,
As you don’t know her name then try not to frighten.

Strobing memory teases your anxiety,
The coagulating haze of last nights absurdity.
Stretching limbs aid the recollection,
Clearly passion engaged, but what of affection?

The hangover amplified by your lack of fidelity,
You pray to remember the drunken carnality.
Your left eye thuds, your form feels so brittle,
With this girl you shared so much but know so little.

She starts to rouse, if only you could see her face,
Do you stay for the awkward or do you leave in haste?
Until she is revealed you try to peer,
This foreigner concealed, so far yet so near.

As she emerges from her dopey slumber,
Beauty or beast? You cannot help but wonder.
That pulse in your chest it starts to quicken,
As she pulls back the cover your blood starts to thicken.

The moment arrives, her presence is unwrapped,
Your heart, once again, she has kidnapped.
You let out a laugh as all becomes clear,
The most familiar stranger means there is nothing to fear.

Indiscretions past caused your false belief,
Now your private guilt fights with your relief.
Because never be so happy to know you’re a twat,
When you realise that your just in your girlfriends new flat.