Wednesday, 29 August 2007

SHOT NO 3, by Anthony Sides

All around is the sky with the scratchy branches of the bare January trees.
The sun on your face. Do you get careless or unlucky or do you have to secretly be tempted to? Still-faced and composed.
Sentimental spin of a half-true anecdote. Some people will do anything. Expect less of people.
Behind the buildings brilliant blue sky a few white clouds shredding at the corners.
The ones who barely met you once know you're a topic of interest now, they want some of that interest to rub off on them like newsprint.
This time last week ....
A coldness that gets in to your bones, a clay smell.
Down, slowly, inside, out of the sunlight.
Driving away leaving you. Past chip shops, and kids in school sweat shirts on their lunch hour.

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