Fictions

There are stories here:
Would you like to make one?

Who is this sitting on the
doorstep with a fag? Is that his
bike? His
boots look new, the
phone’s quite smart.

Why is he outside in the
rain? Whose
door is this? Is it
stripped pine trendy or
stripped for painting? No
handle but the
knocker’s there. There’s a
light inside. Has he rung the
bell?

What happens next? Does he
stand and walk away?
Look up and
ask what I am
doing? Say he'll
beat me up if I do not delete
his effing picture?

Or do we go for coffee?



I was in a concert singing Fauré's Requiem this evening. Wonderful - it's better each time I hear it. I'll miss it as we move onto the next piece.

(Was he there?)