A grey day that started before the alarm went off. He couldn't sleep from discomfort, got up, did stuff. She lay in bed wishing he would come back to her and ravage her with a morning passion. They died his hair red.
In a cafe a man plays chess against himself and a timer. A roll up board. He plays both black and white pieces. I'm not sure where the challenge is. Behind him a young beardy man with crutches eats chocolate cake. A man with half white face and drawn on black curling moustache hands out flyers to a hairdressers. She listens to her music loudly. Nothing gets through.
An albino child walks by, cap pulled low over his head. Skin so flaky he is scaled like some deep sea fish. Fish out of water.
Tom Waits is singing Gods away on business in his deep gravelly, freak show voice. She was on a different route to usual and didn't realise she missed her stop. Not enough people disembarked so she didn't notice. Waiting at a bus stop to correct the tragectory of travel tall chromed heels flick past flashing light about like knives thrown at the circus.
Boring life, who would want it.
Wednesday, 8 March 2017
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment