It’s been a week since I’ve walked out in the early hours. It’s been too cold and slippery. The air was strangely warm this morning. I had too many clothes on and I instantly regretted the two hats, the scarf two coats and the two gilets. But it was too late to strip it all away so I set off regardless. The Prom, and indeed, town was empty. A few stragglers as always – a student dragging a suitcase, off, no doubt to catch the first train out of here, and a man walking the other way from me along Llanbadarn Road, hat pulled down over his face, collar up. I walked to the harbour. The wind was strong and gusty, and the waves hurled spray onto the tarmac. The Perygyl was too wet to contemplate walking on. It was good to be out and the music in my ears helps to distract me from the stiffness in my legs. At least I can still walk. And I shall keep on doing it for as long as I am able.
She will be walking too, masked-up though sans apron, along those tinsel-strewn corridors of feigned jollity, aching for her own home now long gone. Do the teddies help?
