We live in a series of interlocked, ever so slightly different realities. The random nature of quantum entanglement means that anything at all is possible.

If you go into the countryside at 2am, wait until you can see the stars wheeling above your head, close your eyes and really LISTEN…

You can sometimes tap in.

And the results can be surprising.

I went out into the garden last night, let the dogs wander and hunt in the blackness while I looked due south and had a small sip of bourbon and gazed at the constellations.

Or a load of stars anyway.

And I could hear a phone ringing.

Somewhere in 1979 by the sound of it, the strident bell ringing a few times before pickup

‘Hello Minack, how can I help you?’

……

…….

‘You’re a what?’

…..

……….

‘I’m sorry, your English is terrible, you’re complaining about what?’

….

………

‘The opera? Sorry I’m going to have to get my manager, I can hardly understand you.’

‘Boss, BOSS!’

‘What?’

‘There’s an American Indian on the line complaining about the opera.’

‘What? Oh for fucks sake give me the phone.’

‘Manager here, what be heap big problem with opera then chief?’

……

‘Jesus. Slow down. I can’t understand more than one word in five.’

………….

‘Trevor, is that you ? You’ve been told before, just stay away, she didn’t really leave you for me, she left you because you’re a pisshead who’s shit in bed and secretly likes cock, now fuck off.’

CLICK

RING RING, RING RING

‘Trevor, I fucking mean it…’

………..

‘I thought you were an American Indian, why do you sound like a paki?’

……..

……..

‘Well why the fuck can’t you speak English then? Is this some sort of Candid Camera thing ?’

………

…………..

‘An interfaith spokesman? Really? Never heard of it. What do you want? I’m busy.’

……..

……………………

‘The opera? Lakme? What’s the problem?’

…………

‘Yes we’re showing it, why do you care? It’s not like you’re going to fly over to watch it.’

………..

‘Cultural insensitivity? Fucking hell. I know they’re from Croydon but they’re not that bad.’

……….

‘It offends you. So fucking what? Have you ever seen it or heard the Flower Duet?’

……….

‘You haven’t. It’s the subject matter. Jesus mate, it was written in 1883, you’re a bit late on this one. Hang on, I’m going to play you something.’

THUD

CLICK

‘You still there?’

…………..

‘You don’t like it… I don’t believe you, you’ve never seen the opera or heard it. You’re just being a prick aren’t you?’

…………..

‘Nope. Not even one word in five. If you seriously think that we’re going to stop an opera from playing in an open air amphitheatre on a summer evening, you’re mental.’

……………

‘Complain to who you like, an Englishman’s theatre is his castle. Or something like that anyway.’

…………..

‘Yeah ok… Anyway, I’m busy and you’re some sort of mental cunt. I hope the call costs were worth it.’

click

‘He hung up, said he’d call the press. I hope so, we need to sell some more tickets….’

And the audio faded at that point, leaving me staring at what might be a constellation and wondering what happened to my bourbon.

The dogs were sat beside me, their ears cocked for sounds that I could no longer hear.

I like 1979 world.

I may go back from time to time.