Walked across the city after a
day cooped in a convention centre.
Streets, of winter, relatively quiet.
I then walked up the pedestrian avenue, a broad knife's edge between the back of Parliament and the Company's Gardens; it felt bleak, ugly, unusually so.
There are always many homeless folks around because it's a free space, and understandably a space within which to find respite from a harsh city.
This late afternoon they were especially conspicuous to me because many were already covered like mummies with their blankets against the cold and night.
The nights must seem endless to them.
Was almost sorry I walked that way.
Then, I looked up and saw the Centre for the Book in the descending gloom. And took a photo.
Before walking on to the Kimberley Hotel bar for a glass of wine that became two.
Even as soon as I took the first sip I was sorry that I'd dropped in there, that I'd not gone on home. I suppose, though, that I just did not fancy being more alone than I already was.
Not that I sought company.
Streets, of winter, relatively quiet.
I then walked up the pedestrian avenue, a broad knife's edge between the back of Parliament and the Company's Gardens; it felt bleak, ugly, unusually so.
There are always many homeless folks around because it's a free space, and understandably a space within which to find respite from a harsh city.
This late afternoon they were especially conspicuous to me because many were already covered like mummies with their blankets against the cold and night.
The nights must seem endless to them.
Was almost sorry I walked that way.
Then, I looked up and saw the Centre for the Book in the descending gloom. And took a photo.
Before walking on to the Kimberley Hotel bar for a glass of wine that became two.
Even as soon as I took the first sip I was sorry that I'd dropped in there, that I'd not gone on home. I suppose, though, that I just did not fancy being more alone than I already was.
Not that I sought company.
No comments:
Post a Comment