My cycle to the station in the mornings has become rather routine: we are such creatures of habit. I meet the same characters, see the same events more or less every day. There’s the dog walker on the Bridleway, the arguing siblings climbing the hill, the blackbird and the robin on the fence behind number 48, the scowling cat in the garden at number 46, the man in his underpants in Brooke Drive. The woman in the red Fiesta tries to run me down pretty much every day and the market traders always curse as I weave through their setting up of stalls. All of this is fine. It’s texture. The one sight that always depresses me is the grey faces. Standing in line. Queuing. Lifelessly. For breakfast. At McDonalds.
I try not to look.
When I see people eating crisps or McDonalds for breakfast I get all ranty and scary. It's not good.
Posted by: LondonGirl | Monday, 03 March 2008 at 10:07 PM
I think it's a fair reaction, LondonGirl! c
Posted by: Carlton | Tuesday, 18 March 2008 at 09:33 AM