03/03/24 People keep commenting on my shoes. “Ooh, nice shoes!” “New shoes, Nick?” “I like your shoes.” I look down at my shoes, but they’re not new. They are a pair of grubby, once-white, All-Star Chuck Taylors, purchased last September. I bought them after much deliberation, much procrastination, only relenting, allowing myself, after the strip … Continue reading Dream Diaries… 122
Having no tuppence for fish and chip supper, marrowfat peas, pale ale, bread and butter, I shaped a plaything from yesterday’s paper and pretended the pavement a pitch. Some time later, I mentioned the weather in a bus queue, under puddled umbrellas. I motioned a cup and a ring and a feather beneath afternoon nimbus, … Continue reading I Heard The Name Daniel Defoe.
Three schoolgirls, skirted, shirted, each with a small rucksack across their white cottoned back, play a sing-song game of dance and words in the carriage. They spin & slap the upturned soles of their smart shoes together, spin & clap palms. A pleated chorus of words & laughter accompanies the frenetic routine and the motion … Continue reading Doors Closing.
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