Mary P is a zealous woman.
Sometimes stuff gets archived even before it's been thought.
Archival Remnant No 5 catalogue number MX745
Driving late, towards Lent.
Tired and hungry.
He stops.
He needs chocolate and the soft luxury of
its melt.
But it’s almost lent.
Fruit?
He can smell the apples as he walks in
front of the greengrocers.
They smell like apples, nothing more and
this shop sells chocolate dipped slices of banana.
He walks past.
The baker’s on the corner has only
croissants.
So he walks on.
At the top of the hill the deli is closed,
it was probably the best chance.
He shouldn’t have stopped, he would be half
way home by now where he could have made toast and..
And?
There is no chocolate in the house.
And he stopped.
There is one more shop.
He enters, they have new doors. He looks
around, they have new everything.
The place next door used to be a toyshop,
now it’s a bank. The old man who ran the toyshop had look sad. And tired. No one shops here anymore.
In the new place there is a raspberry tart.
No chocolate. A promise of sweetness.
It looks perfect – the raspberries are fresh,
a gentle dusting of icing sugar on their tops and they sit in raspberry glaze.
But it’s lent.
Everything else looks either burnt or
depressed.
He waits.
It’s raining outside.
The man next to him is drunk.
He talks.
He talks back.
He waits.
This new place only employs one person, the
old place three.
He waits.
He looks at the raspberries, he thinks of
Lent, he leaves.
He doesn’t say goodbye.
He turns his collar up and walks down the
hill.
He stops in front of the bookshop window.
There is a complete volume of a cartoon
guide to the blues.
The cover is blue.
He has the blues.
He goes back to the car.
He drives on.
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2 comments:
Could this Mary P. be related to the late Ms. Penny? Younger sister perhaps, or love-child from her wild and crazy youth before the fascinating and dusty world of archives beckoned?
A mystery -- the game is ON!
Mary P is Mary P.
She is her own tattoo.
For the moment anyhow.
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