Folding

Someone asked me how my weekend was ‘folding’. This might be what the cool kids are saying now.

It was folding into a grey day that threatened rain. I headed out anyway because afternoon reading on benches is one of my simple pleasures in life. When the clouds broke and started splodging down I found the nearest overhang and continued reading underneath it.

A bookshop was nearby so I went for a browse, and I was thinking closely about the phrase ‘have a day off’ [from angst about tragic and serious matters]. So bucking my typical behaviour when book buying, I didn’t select one about apartheid, war or fascist dictatorships attempting to dismantle global progress. I bought one about someone travelling around Madagascar.