Wednesday, 1 September 2004

In the Last Rays of Summer

A policeman opposite the bus stop on Seven Sisters road under the railway bridge at Finsbury Park is digging in a bin wearing blue rubber gloves. A tramp comes by and gives him a dirty look like he's stepping on his toes or moving in on his patch. The policeman pretends not to notice and tries not to heave.

A seagull eats macdonald's out of a bag in the carpark, his head twisting oddly to reach right inside.

The sun hangs low in the sky. Rays shine directly into my eyes. The last roadworks of summer haven't quite been finished - holes in the side of the road are protected by light reflecting barriers.

A man has a row into his phone standing in the middle of the road. He's really pissed off, sucks his teeth and hangs up without saying goodbye. I follow another man in shorts and sandals up my street, he's carrying a couple of stalks of tiger lillies in a cellophane wrap.

Sitting quietly in the kitchen surrounded by fruit flies I contemplate opening the pineapple.

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