Published 'Wearwolf' 1993
SHAMEFACED
I had heard of claustrophobia. But when Simon told me that he suffered from a cosmic strain of it, I was so embarrassed I just didn't know where to put my face.
In fact, as far as I could gather, when I asked him to elaborate, he often resorted to crouching in the broom cupboard under the stairs to escape from the sheer oppression of the open sky.
"Are you sure you're not suffering from agoraphobia rather than claustrophobia, Simon? It sounds as if you might be."
"No, I feel I must escape the universe itself, you know, to put my body beyond its constricting margins."
I laughed: "Maybe, death is the answer..."
"Yes, it may be, but what if it isn't - it's a bit rash to try death out, before exhausting all the possibilities."
For no reason whatsoever, my mind wandered regarding his phrase about "exhausting possibilities" and I visualised peculiar creatures lying all over the place panting desperately for breath...
Then, it struck me that one of the creatures didn't have a face, which solved my problem, if not Simon’s.
