They invade my dreams, those words that we ruminate over during our daily crossword-doing. Last night it was effluvia which became a flood of faeces outside a cafe. Then someone was handing me some pills and another woman was talking about her stash of hard drugs in a caravan in her garden. Should I report her to the police, I thought before convincing myself that I shouldn’t because she was a nice, good woman. The rest was lost on waking. A gloomy morning all and all. And then he tells me of the new restrictions in place here. So be it. What will be must be. Can I go and do my review? Probably not. Or get my hair cut, finally? Probably not.
The man who we think is a lecturer on account of the ‘seminars’ he held in car park over the summer has a huge cardboard cut out of christmas tree in his window. I was surprised, it seems out of character, or at least the one we’ve invented for him. He is thin as a rake, a smoker and rather grungy in appearance. But he has a young son who visits at weekends, so perhaps it is for him.
I see many lit windows as I walk between 3 and 4 am. A lad came out of one of the houses along Llanbadarn Road. He had a small knapsack over his shoulder. Where was he going? The Chinese student at no 1 had her light on as did the guy who works in Summit Cycles who is going out with the nurse. And the lights were on in the American’s flat. He’s called Eric, I forget her’s. Insomniacs all?
The council had left a string of lights on by mistake over Terrace Road. It was nice – a surprise whiteness in the black, black dark.