I went outside…

2 02 2007

…and felt the freshness of the morning. It was a sharp freshness, like clean laundry. The sky was a vibrant blue and my breath was hazy like fog. I walked to the shop on the corner.

The woman who was in charge of the shop today was running late. She hadn’t opened up yet.

It wasn’t the usual woman; she is on holiday this week. This other woman has a face like an old peasant whore but she is friendly. The postman strolled past on his rounds. He isn’t much older than my son. We stood there together not speaking. It became apparent the shop was not going to be opened for a few minutes yet. The postman gazed further down the street, anxious to continue his round. I finally realised what he was silently asking me.

“Do you want me to take those for you?” I said.

He passed me the bundle of mail and said “thanks”.

Off he continued on his way.

I didn’t; wouldn’t look at the mail.

I felt content.

Standing there in the morning sun on a crisp winter’s day. No hurry.

The woman opened the door and I handed her the mail. I apologised for if I’d made her feel hurried. I bought a packet of cigarettes. Such is the life of an addict.




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