Monday, 1 December 2008


Cold, misty, slightly damp. Walking along a smell of strawberry creeps up. Strawberry syrup spilled on the pavement from a broken bottle, like ink on blotting paper, spreading but contained within its edges.

Once in Lewisham market an elderly Jamaican man taught me how to recognise a good bottle of syrup. Tip the syrup bottle and watch the contents seep back from the inside neck, a good syrup is thick and takes time, a poor syrup looks watery.

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