Saturday, June 02, 2012

Unwound, over the wall and treacle.

1. ...and when I come upstairs the roll of nappy liners is no longer a roll. "Oh Alec, what have you done?"
He laughs at me and pulls a few more off. This is fun, isn't it.
"No, no, no!" I tell him.
"No, no, no!" he returns in a fair approximation of my tone.

2. "Toot toot," says Alec in the backpack. He's reminding me that if we walk down towards the station car park, we can look down over the wall and -- maybe -- see a train below us. There is one waiting, full of tired Friday night commuters on their way to the Sussex countryside. Alec watches it pull out. I watch the chef from the restaurant at the top of the high street having a break on the flat roof.

3. Black treacle dribbled over yoghurt. I like the way it forms curlicues and springs and spirals.