Pees

I’ve had a lovely evening, my friend rattled up a good curry and her young son insisted I watch a great DVD. Fantastic.

He is a cheeky piece.

They are busy so I left them in pees.

As I walked back through the Easyjet borough, homeward, around and down the Great North Road, in the late evening, unlike when I set out this afternoon when heavy showers chased my ploddings. The sky was clear. The beautiful late evening sky was pure again.

The watery glint on stilled plants. No insects, no bees. Glorious trees.

Above I watched the approaching strobbings and wondered. Flash, flash white, strobe red, flash, flash white, strobe red. I listened to hear the quiet howl. RR, GE, P&W, you can tell. RR. The sky was clear and a half moon sung. All the memories I have had in the North Smoke came flooding back as I walked past the old, old residencies and lodgings.

The ale houses and eating, meeting and greeting places. The amber light spilling on the pavement, splashing light to guide me forward when the sodium glare had failed. The stark neon and candled friendly lite. Illuminated my right. Of way. Old London was awash with light as the silent moon slipped behind strolling late night puffings. All was beautifully calm. All was human, all was peace.

Not a single thing was ungentled.

Black boys catching the bus, Chinese girls walking home, Mid East on the mobile trombone talking to his loved ones…who knows?

All are not fortune to the spy..

Peace. Quiet revellers going home, and Meze bars full of friends. Tooley’s, where 850 quid is up for grabs, enjoying the craich.

Japs crossing the street after calling in at the sushi bar for a take way, TSG out all night, jogger and walkers all getting on with their own business.

All was calm and still and the way it should be.

Wonderful.

And then home.

What I am trying to say is that the beautiful confluence of life is departed from the joy of realisation.

One day the metal will not flow and the granite will be as clay.

Again.