A different way

The wind was forecast to come from the North West so I walked a different way this morning. And besides, I told myself, the bakery is shut so no gorgeous bread-making smells to miss. So I walked along North Road hoping to see some rogue Christmas tree lights still on. There were none, though the house with all the huge teddy bears (I wonder if it’s hers?) in the windows had a positive cornucopia of decorations. An array of streamers and different trees – a real one and some fake – hung from or leaned against the windows and the teddies all had hats and tinsel draped around them. It made me tired just looking at it. Someone is clearly hanging on to childhood in that house and whoever lives with them humours them, or perhaps they love it too. Can it be hers?

The moon was a big white circle – just lovely, particularly the way it lights up the water and the path as I walk. It’s just that little bit of light, like Frank and Peggy’s ‘little bit of perfect’.

I’ve much to do. I liked hearing her voice but so much is lost in the translation. I was sorry for it, I think we would’ve got on if the tongue had been a shared one.

Shall I learn it properly?

I dreamt of prospective lovers, including the actor who played Mr Parker in Sanditon (was it Stanley? ), I couldn’t believe that it was me he kept looking at, and there was a younger man, let’s dance I said as we walked through a plaza – all inspired no doubt by my re-reading of P&P. What a joy that is – and the notes too.

Now to work.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.