crossroads

rose st flags.

My and C enjoy a sunny lunchtime stroll. I start to wonder if I can take pics of everyone and everything before I go. In the end I don't as I can't imagine not remembering the texture of a pined desk, the sound of the lifts, the knack of things. The familiarity has been the axis you follow for so long it's hard to even imagine it all not being there.

My friend G moves from the flat he shares with older eccentric friend A, to friend H's flat while she is in the states sorting out her visa. I help him fiddle about with her amplifiers (part of his thank you). He obsesses over details (as he does) and I fuss over the basics (as I do)

the changing is coming like a weather front.. rippling the flags to let me know it's coming but am I looking? am I hiding?