Back to the road trip of the year.

There’s a man in the park, standing near the lake.

He’s not old, but he looks ancient.

His name is Joseph.

It’s his jacket: the jacket and his trousers come from another time and look like they are someone else’s.

He is just borrowing them.

The man is tanned; his skin looks ancient too as if it has been left out in the sun too long.

He wears a trilby; it could be his.

He is looking at a goat, the goat is standing on a bottle that is balanced on another bottle; the two bottles stand on a small wooden table.

The table is painted red; the goat is white like the man’s jacket, lake by which he stands is blue; it is springtime.

There is another man in the park.

He is not young but he looks youthful.

He is wearing a black waistcoat; the waistcoat is ancient, it belonged to someone else but now it belongs to the young man who isn’t.

The two men are talking.

The ancient man asks the youthful man- “could I do this in your country?”

The youthful man looks at the ancient man’s face; his eyes are blue and look like two rocks in an ocean, only the colours of the eyes and skin that holds them are reversed.

He looks at the man’s jacket: ”I’m sure I’ve seen that before”, he thinks.

It reminds him of his granddad’s.

He looks at the mans feet; they are bare and weathered like his face- if he stood on his hands he would not be surprised and would continue talking to the man’s feet.

He looks at the man’s table.

“They won’t let your goat in.”