Women singing not folk

It’s Saturday night at Glastonbury..I am coming up on Acid & I am on my way to watch Bjork.

The crowd is dense and I have no sense of direction.. I see my friends carried away in all directions, on a sea of people.

The air becomes hot.. I can’t breath..I can’t see the stage..I begin to disappear beneath the surface..I panic.

I fight my way out..ejected on to the drag..I breathe in cool lung fulls of relief...but there’s something wrong.

All around me people are stood in silence, motionless, mouths open..I wander in & out of them trying to suss things out.

I turn to someone & ask, “whats going on?”

“There’s been a shooting,” they answer.

There’s people on the ground writhing and clutching different parts of their bodies.

The police Landrovers arrive & circle the wagons..the blue & white tape comes out.

I wander back to the tent, miraculously converging, the same time as my friends...we take more Acid & head off back into the night.

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