The corridor is dark and silent except for the whispers of an ex colleague Fanie. Soft dreamy light seeps from under doorways which I know from bitter experience are locked so I am doomed to follow the corridor, hearing Fanies voice echoing from somewhere behind me. I never liked Fanie, for no special reason, I just didn't like the man. Hearing his voice whispering in the dark behind me was especially annoying because he was dead and dead men should not be whispering instructions to me when I am stuck in a darkened corridor with no apparent way out.

"Oh, ah, ah, oh!" Fanie and the corridor are banished by the sound of a neighbour's girlfriend's orgasm. She is kinda vocal about her pleasures so I know what I am hearing immediately and I am gratefull to her for rescuing me from that awful dream. Knowing the noise will continue for some time I stagger out of bed to close the window and draw the curtains. It is early morning, the sky is a beautiful opalescent grey heralding a perfect Sunday morning. I start to pull the window closed and realise that the screamer is staring straight at me across the space that separates the two buildings. The way her head is jerking back indicates that she is being well and truly seen to by an unseen presence behind her. I can now hear the slap of flesh against flesh. She raises her hands and starts tearing at the hands around her throat and looking at me in desparation. I stumble back from the window in horror, hit the panic button by the door and take the 22 steps down to my front door at a run. I grab the night stick as I pass the door, push the door open and step outside. It is a bright sunny day, people stop and stare as I stop dead in my tracks. I realise that I am stark naked and I turn to run back inside.

The door slams in my face and I don't have a key. I beat on the door. "Angie, Angie! Let me in, I am locked outside."

"Who is it?" Angies voice, questioning.

"Its me! Charles! Your husband!"

"Sorry, I don't know you."

"Open up, this is no time for joking."

"Go away or I will call the police."

Fanie: "She thinks you are dead. Actually knows you are dead. And dead means you can walk through doors. Unopened ones I mean." That was always the problem with Fanie, unnecessary, wrong, bad information that was also incomplete.

"Go on, try it. I mean all you can do is bump your head."

I stepped forward and straight into the living room of my duplex. I stopped dead in my tracks. Things have changed a bit, aside from anything else my pictures were gone from the walls and the room divider. I hear noises from the main bedroom above. I listen carefully. I hear the sound of an ancient, ancient rhythm. Thump, thump, thump then Angies voice.

"Oh, oh, yes. Yes. Oh fuck, fuck. Oh God!"

I recognise her almost there words, then "Aaarghhh!" a mans voice, the n Angie, urgent, "No, no, no. Not now. Wait. Stay in me. FUCK! You are fucking useless."

I am frozen for seconds. "Now, what did you expect? She is a lively woman and a lively woman has needs. Seems he is not getting the timing right."

"Fuck off Fanie." I have always wanted to say that and it gives me great pleasure to say it but he only chuckles softly.

I race for the stairs, my body feels like I a wading through molasses. No, that old veteren marine described it better, the feeling of wading through volcanic ash on Iwo Gima which reasured me that I was still dreaming. I should not watch military history videos late at night. I make it up the 22 steps at last gasping for air as if my throat is constricted. I kick open the door to the main bedroom and it makes a sort of hollow thump sound, more like a chair falling over and my feet lose contact with the floor, I seem to be floating.

"Silly, silly boy. Playing naughty, naughty games without backup. Anoxia dreams and erotica are not only addictive, but can be deadly. The good news is that you will have a mammoth erection when Angie finds you." Fanie is gloating.

My hands instinctively go for my throat, the noose is there, tightening way beyond the safe limit, the chair that I was staning tiptoes on has fallen over and I am swinging gently by my neck from the rope attached to the ceiling with a rawl bolt. I try to get my feet on the edge of the chair, the bed behind me, but all that does is make me swing more wildly in what is known as the hangmans jig. The world goes dark in a shower of purple and black spots, and I know that I am going to lose consciousness soon, my hands are weakening on the noose, I am dying. Naked, except for Angies silk stockings and high heels, I feel the erection starting, Kalis gift the Thugee call it, I feel the spasms of my dying ejaculation start, then I crash to the ground, the pressure eases on my neck and I rip the noose lose and draw in a huge lungful of air.

Angie is standing over me. "Bad boy. You wear my stuff and you play without me. Stupid too, you would have been dead in another 60 seconds but it did have a good effect on your penis. I am now going to take my reward."

She straddled my hips and lowered herself down onto me.