Deckchairs (7)

They’re up again. The deckchairs have returned. The giant deckchairs, that is, that promote the PR company Advancing Aberystwyth. What a nonsense, he said at breakfast, no one elected them. It makes his blood boil the idea that people are taking over his town. There’s one by the Bar and two in the paddling pool now soon to be sandpit again. They get vandalised. Considered a jolly jape no doubt to slash away at the striped fabric. But they are always repaired. Perhaps they have lots of spares in reserve. Sad that. He read out the story of the ‘trashed’ model train exhibition and how donors (including Rod Stewart) sent in thousands of pounds in support. Nice.

Another beautiful day. Or at least the promise of one. Much to do. Another journey tomorrow. I make the best of it. I can read and rest.

The work is done. Sent off. Wait and see. I worked hard at it. Is it enough?

Oh, and I almost forgot. This line from William Trevor, heard on the radio as I made breakfast:

‘He wondered if his wanting would be all there ever was.’