I have a short piece about biscuits up at Encounters with Remarkable Biscuits.
1. The park at 10.45am is full of girls from a school on the other side of town. They push into the ladies, turning sideways to accomodate their shoulder bags. They are all coatless on a chilly morning, as if they have suddenly been called outside for a moment, and the wet grass soaks their white canvas shoes. They cluster at the top of the hill, looking hungrily down before running shrieking and sliding into the dip. Their teacher (hat, scarf, coat, boots, clipboard) calls out: "If I can hear your voice, it's too loud." They modulate back: "Sorry, Miss."
2. Light comes through the round door glass and through the warm orange curtain. Indoor sun.
3. I leave the path and walk on the grass because I want to shuffle through wet beech leaves.