Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Still Rambling Along? Yes!

Imagine stepping into a room, vast like the concourse of a major, yet mythical, railway terminal, which is full of papers swirling and falling, flying and drifting – as if bewitched by an invisible wind. Imagine the sunlight streaming in through windows so high that they seem like dreams. What would you do? Shut the door I guess, just in case it was oneself that had caused the draught and set a thousand carefully stacked papers randomly cascading. Either that, or grab a handful and with the blessing of the Head Archivist  -whose job it is to tame the Turbulent Chambers as they are now known – set off on a long ramble homewards as the autumn infiltrates. And as I ramble along I’ll read a few of these tumbling missives that come from An Archive Past. Oh, and stick some photos of a recent walk in London Town. This is what is happening at the moment here on Bitsnbobs, and which has been previously explained here.

Exit the house, front door.

Walk up the drive; turn left at the street and walk to the end.
Right leads to the woods, but he turns left and goes down the hill.
On the corner there is a bench, but he doesn’t stop. He looks left, he looks right, he looks left again.
It’s all clear, so quick march he crosses the road, passes the letterbox (red) and enters the sweet shop.
Exits the house, back door.
Walks up the drive.
Right leads to the green, but she turns left and goes down the hill.
She doesn’t need to cross the road and she enters the sweet shop.
“What’ya getting?”
“Shrimps. You?”
“Black jacks.”
Pay, leave shop, swap. Say bye.
Next day same.
Next day same again, but.
But she’s sitting on the bench, he was a little later.
She makes room, he sits down, she offers him a shrimp.
“Hang on”
Look right, look left, look right again, all clear, quick march, twice.
“What you got?”
“Fruit salads”.
“Do you like sherbet dips?”
“Yes, but they’re frustrating – the liquorice get’s blocked up.”
“You have to bight the top off.”
“Have you ever put the sherbet in Lemonade?”
“No! What happens?”
Suck. Chew.
Wake up early. Slam front door. Run up drive. Forget to look left, right, left. Very quick march. Sit. Wait.
“Hello” Wave.
Waves back.
Make room for her. Pour lemonade.
“I have to go home now.”
Sit on bench. 

No comments: