kirkby worker’s dream fades – the teardrop explodes

I wrote a sequence where my mmc and mfc find themselves in a sort of Liverpool. I say sort of, because one of the questions I had before writing this was, what if the scouse accent was a language?

I moved to Liverpool a few years ago, to take up a position as the pet of Someone I’d met. I’d been both a sub and a slave in previous relationships, so the Mistress/Pet situation was something I hadn’t tried.

And so it was that in May of 2006, I moved to the land of Ken Dodd, Cilla Black and Ringo Starr, cheered by the fact the good burghers of Liverpool despised these three ‘plastic scousers’ even more than I myself did. although you’ll never hear a Liverpudlian say a word against the Beatles and they can be highly intolerant of foreigners who inadvertently do so!

There, although I made friends – and had a 24/7 relationship, as much as one can against the real world of kids, jobs and money, I was like a fish out of water.

My accent was incomprehensible to a lot of people and my sense of humour terrified most people I met.

In short, I became isolated, viewing my environment through a veil of otherness.

So, in writing the sequence I mentioned above, I’ve drawn on that alien Liverpool I was cast into, not understanding the language or customs of this weird and exotic place.


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