The image of Medb’s severed head has never haunted me.

For a while I found it comforting, in a strange sort of way.

I can still hear the raucous belly-laugh, mirrored in Medb’s smiling face.

A face, now, forever frozen in time.

Everything happened so quickly.

What I do remember is Medb looking as beautiful in death as she was in life.

I drew her to me.

It was one of the most intimate moments in my life. 

Medb’s blood was everywhere.

Rose-coloured blood covered me like a liquid shroud.

I could even taste it on my lips, and feel it running down my beard.

It was the smell of death.

Death mingled with car oil.

Although my eyes were a blur, some of my other senses were working overtime, trying to make sense of my new environment: creaking metal, burnt rubber, the wind in the trees.

Then silence.

And in the silence three drops of blood fell on my forehead.

In. Slow. Motion.

Medb, in death, anointing me, I fantasized.

Not for a moment did I consider the possibility that this may have been a nightmare.

This was real.

Bloody real!”