Round 31.

31.

He has felt like this before. Alone; questioning. Sad.

Humbled by the soft beauty of the sunrise over the meadows, the hope he sees in the way the early morning mist waits for the sun to lift it from the grass.

Old.

He feels old.

Corrine does not feel old.

Corrine is Italian.

She lives in London.

This does not explain why she was standing at the side of this French Road at 7 a.m.

But maybe it explains why next she is sitting in his car on her way to Montpellier.

He is not going to Montpellier himself; he is off to Toulouse.

She wanted to go to Albi, which is in the other direction.

And further from Montpellier than Toulouse.

But she needed a lift.

She is travelling with a guitar and a heavy bag.

The guitar is wrapped in plastic and protective packaging so that it looks more like a Lute.

She hopes to paly it whilst she is travelling.

Trying to get to Montpellier via Albi by small country roads will give her a lot of opportunities.

The guitar - which is not a Lute - was given to her by her ex-boyfriend Tommy.

At this moment Tom is lying in his bed.

He is not asleep; he is staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling is uninteresting, but less painful than the memories that woke him.

One of those memories is of his dog, Russel, who died yesterday.

Russel was old, it was maybe fairer to help him die than to continue suffering.

The vet’s name was Julie, she is a recent immigrant from an Eastern European country, something that is considered in-appropriate in this country at the moment.

Julie doesn’t understand the lack of compassion behind this feeling.

She is sitting in the café on the corner of the street where she shares a flat with Amie.

She is reading the newspaper.

The paper is full of bad news and it makes her feel sad.

Amie is not in the café and neither is she in the flat.

She is standing in the empty McDonalds on the edge of the ring road where she works as a cleaner. 

The restaurant opens in thirty minutes and she needs to finish cleaning the floor before the first customer arrives.

She is questioning the direction of her life.

The first customer will be Henry, but at the moment he is filling his petrol tank with unleaded and looking at his breath, which condenses in the early morning air as he sighs.

He sighs because he has felt this way before.

Alone; questioning.

Sad.

Humbled by the soft beauty of the sunrise over the meadows.

(sorry, bit late - the editor)

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