2 March 2013
It's strange when you go outside . . .
And it's suddenly night.
When you haven't experienced the transition from day.
Makes me feel guilty.
Only for a second though.
Amber street lamps reflected of parked cars.
Other people.
Man late home from work.
Girl on her way out somewhere.
Normality.
I'm off to see the wizard
The wonderful wizard of . . .
What rhymes with Oz?
Boz, Coz, Foz, Goz, Hoz, Joz, Koz, Loz, Moz, Noz, Poz, Quoz, Roz, Soz . . .
Nothing much.
The off licence is filthy and utilitarian.
No frills, just booze and basic food.
Scan the shelves . . .
So much choice, so many yummy colours.
Like a toy shop.
And tonight . . . I think we might try something . . . Exotic.
How about some . . . Cointreau!
Or Chartreuse. Haven't had that in ages.
Damn, they haven't got it.
All right. Cointreau it is.
Plus crisps and loaf of bread.
Home.
Letting Go Part 5 • Opuss № I