things move around

a trip to the shops with a girl turns into a lonely devotional

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a glance at the watch. i’m early, you’re late, and vice versa. no need to spill entrails to see what time of day it is; no need to bong out a crescendo. people’s newspapers are making a right meal of this breeze. some moron’s feeding pigeons. no doubt someone is dreamin’ about writin’ a novel.

hurry up.

watching the chariots go by. a woman pushing a prambulance stumbles just in front of me. are you ok? i’m fine, do you have the time on you? i’m afraid so. last time i saw a pram like that, i was in it.

wheels like dartboards. god help us all if the brakes fail.

i stroll over to the Boots and loiter. the price of make-up is ridiculous, still, by the time you get here i’ll be the proud daddy of a trilogy - cleanse, moisturise, tone. repeat all day. no need for a rolex.

bugger this for a lark. i’m off home. you should’ve been here ages ago. maybe i’ll miss you again tomorrow.

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it’s like being on a ferret’s wheel at Blackpool