REMEMBRANE

When I texted , ‘you coming down the pub?’ sending a photograph of the tops of peacock feathers I was on the way down from the peak of my drunkenness.
She’d played pool with a man wasn’t me since we’d got there. I hadn’t put my name on the blackboard beneath hers in the list of people wanting to play. Later when I thought about doing so the list was so long I decided not to bother and spent the evening drinking and feeling more jealous and estranged following them from table to table as the crowd gradually dispersed.
The last pint I bought was pulled by a man doing the barmaid a favour but when I counted out the money it was she said, ‘two ten,’ and her I gave the money. A few minutes later she came from behind the bar and stood in my way.
Each time I moved she pushed me further from where the woman I thought loved me was laughing with the person whispering in her ear as they both stared at me with eyes a golden colour.
I tried to get closer I really did but the harder I pushed against it the more the membrane had appeared between us made it difficult for me to breathe.
The Lost Rider said, ‘the last time I saw you I turned round and you were gone.’
Mr. Half Pint pointed at my phone was black with backlit numbers and illuminated screen and said, ‘what’s that?’
‘It helps me live my postmodern life but unfortunately it’s not stopped me becoming like you.’
He said, ‘Yes, I remembrane the time you ignored the warning I was.’