I See Dead People

This morning I had a meeting at another office. It got cancelled and as I made my way back through some side streets I saw a man walking towards me. As he stepped into the light I realised that I knew him, his name was Stu and we had served together in the army. London is strange like that sometimes. It’s a huge city but most people in the country end up there at one point or another and you often bump into people you haven’t seen in a long time in the most random of places. It wasn’t long since I’d ran into a guy called Nate, we were both standing on a traffic island on Broadgate waiting to cross. He’s from Plymouth but was in town visiting a tailor. Random. Anyway, as I readied myself to greet (/shout abuse) at Stu I realised it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be. Stu was killed in Afghanistan last year.

I go through periods when I think I’ve got away from it. Life appears to be going well, I’m a world away from the heat and stench of the Middle East and Africa. I’m equally as far away from any barrack room or mess. I go to galleries and trips to Europe. I discuss literature or film and get angry about politics and the law. But every so often I get a stinging reminder about what I am always running away from. I have avoided military association. I try not to go to reunions, I make excuses about exams to get out of the Army V Navy rugby match. I don’t want to talk about what we got up to and the exploits of the dead. I have nothing in common with these people. We share little now. But that’s not entirely true.

Moments like this hit me physically. I feel sick and have a splitting headache. I get angry.

I sat on the Jubilee line feeling numb and angry. Look at these people. I’m both jealous of and I hate them.

Profit and loss. Action points and minutes. Metrics and spreadsheets. Work life balance. Flexible working hours. Must respond to this email and chase a response to that one. Libel reform, Rylands V Fletcher, critical legal theory, MPs expenses, Samantha Cameron is pregnant…fuck you.

Deep breath. Open office door. ‘Good morning everyone, and how are we all on this glorious spring morning?’

Stu

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