Hello Oscar,

Long time – no contact!

I miss our time together, when we would chew the fat of modern dilemma and uncertain future and mysterious past.

Our secret time, across lost millennia, thoughts and psychic transportation, from your hot theatre-land to your secluded cell, and my life, public, private, oh so weighted to private. Living the two lives and the many lives of postmodern existence, all the posturings and pretences, the smiles and hidden tears, the laughter and visible to the trained eye fears and expectations.

I want you to know the things that you would never have known when you were alive, that things change, that societies evolve, that the behaviours of people become something to be reckoned with, reacting to the drug-fuelled, media immersed, obsessive narcissism of an age that glimmered faintly in your salons and green carnationed green rooms. If you could see them now you would wonder whatever can possibly be next! Their lives out there with multi-coloured, band inclusive, rivers of bodily fluids, honed and taut and rigid and perfectly toothed and high, as high as kites can fly and beyond into the stratosphere! Mice clicking from one oiled image to another, money drained, idle past-times, not your past-time, no wit, no chance, no elegance. Although your sordid side was your sordid side – as it ever was and ever is. The flip-side. The dark side of the moon.

I wish you well, my friend – sleep well!

Algernon B. Dufourre.