He’s a dapper little man, no taller than I am, who gives the impression he’s rather pleased with himself. I give him the benefit of the doubt, as I try to with everyone I encounter. We all have shadows that follow us. He dresses nicely, is spruce, jaunty. But I’ve seen him on the Prom with his child with Down’s Syndrome. Other people’s lives are never how we see them. We need to be thankful for what is. Here now. Here.
You’re welcome, he said as I passed him on the wee incline, his having stepped aside to let me go by. He smelt of beer. I rarely see people on that hill, though it is a convenient short cut for Llanbadarn Road. He was young. A student. Nice voice. Polite. Have a nice evening, he called after me. You too, I replied. You too.
The moon was full and huge.
Must I give up grapefruit?