A continuum through a single perspective

So I strolled into town today, there’s always something happening there on a Sunday. There’s the regular features that attract those seeking diversion over the weekend, local craftsmen offering their wares on the market, the open air theatre, the street artists and performers.

Today I went into town, the wind and rain swept through the streets and kept them empty. A few shops were open, clinging to the hope of some Sunday trade, flogging the same tat you can buy anywhere across the country.

Today there was a Punch and Judy show entertaining a crowd of kids, while their parents looked on in bemusement and feigning disapproval at the ribald antics of Mr. Punch. I lingered near a couple of poets, as they read their own work aloud, gathering thoughtful approval from a few more esoteric onlookers.

A man spilled out of the pub to have a drag, he was wearing tattoos he got twenty years ago. He could afford to smoke fags from a packet rather than roll them and spend Sunday in a pub with only drink for entertainment.

There were families and couples there, maybe one or two people renewing acquaintances or even, the odd romance or two commencing amid the lively throng. Even for those by themselves, it’s hard to feel alone.

I felt alone.

As I made my way home, lingering on the journey to appreciate the budding trees and the early song of one or two birds, I pondered on how lucky I am to have abide in such a prosperous culture.

I took care to avoid stepping in dog excrement as I walked home, it’s best to keep your eyes on the ground.

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~ by deadspidereye on January 31, 2016.

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