I forgot to say that we picked blackberries on the way home yesterday. When I got in I noticed that my thumb had been stained purple.
Town was quiet again this morning and the moon was still visible though shrinking. 3 boys were standing around a sooped-up sports hatchback outside the Pier Pressure club. It’s lights were on and one of them was bending down to look at the tyres. Further along 2 girls were sitting cross-legged on the pavement smoking and talking, a thermos flask by the side of them. One, a girl with a strong Irish brogue and slurring a little, was saying, ‘…it’s the commitment’. Before I’d climbed the hill I’d seen an elderly woman in what looked like pyjamas (at least there was a kind of Disney character motif on the front – Daffy Duck or Bugs Buggy, I’m not sure, it was too dark) pushing a ‘walker’. I smiled at her but she gave me a grimace and continued her slow inching. Another elderly person (not sure sex-wise) was sitting on a similar walker (some come with flip down seats) on the Prom. He or she was hunched over. I thought I might have to go and see if they were alright but when I passed her or him, I could see that he or she was looking a mobile. Up in the Castle park someone had clearly slashed away at the hydrangeas for several of its heads littered the path. Why?
I saw the Americans getting into a taxi at 5.30 am. He’d told him he was going (though much of what he said was unheard), that they had to due to their visa expiring but that they intend to keep on the flat for a bit in case they can return. I am saddened. Not that were knew them very well but the birds and the local vegan shop have all come to rely on them. As have I in my small way. I liked their gentleness and slow politeness. And seeing the birds that come to their balcony. Must there always be change?
