Sunday, 16 September 2012

Phut,phut, phut...ding.....

I am nearly awake... my mobile has just tinkled with a text..... errggggghhhh, what time is it? (7.30am) where am I? Open eyes hopefully....  I am in my own bed, I do not have hangover (undeservedly), bunny Dave is asleep next to me... all is well. Drink glass of water, just in case there is going to be a hangover... but no, all is still well and I have no feelings of gloom, despair and despondency, have not fallen into the pit of doom.

Think about day ahead... plan to be busy all day.... clean carpet in sitting room which is very grubby; finish off patchwork table cloth for coffee table; sort out bedroom, which currently looks like a jumble sale; put more highlights in hair; do washing and ironing; then just chill in cleaner, and happy flat.

Go out to sit on doorstep for early morning fag, man walks down road with big dog. This happens every morning, at the same time. The man is slightly dishevelled and the dog, which is a bull dog, is called Flat Face. Flat Face really doesn't want to walk down the hill, and is dragged by his lead.

Next, the homeless man walks up the hill. He is not looking too good today, but has a can of strong lager, so guess Tesco's is open. I worry about him; he spends all day writing furiously into his note book, and drinking, always alone. There but for the grace of God........

A Police car zooms past, sirens shouting out, waking the world. Shortly followed by ambulance, also screaming its urgency, it echoes from the buildings.
Mainly silent, then a few young men and women, dressed in their evening attire, scutter along the pavement, I wonder, walk of shame, or stride of pride....? It is Freshers week.

Though this is an inner city road, with mainly rented rooms and flats, there is a sense of community, of knowing that events and people happen with a reassuring regularity. But, do I know the man and Flat Face? Do I know the homeless man? Do I know the man who is walking up the hill, bent at the waist to a forty five degree angle, talking to himself? No, I don't, but they are there, every day. Do we stop, smile and say 'hello'? Nope we don't, but we know each other just because that is what we do every day. 

There is a safety in this place, but not the fairy tale, handsome prince, roses around the door, happy ever after sort, just the comfortable regularity of every day.

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