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Penguin

There seemed to be more people about than usual this morning. Students loafed about shopping at the 24hr garage or the SPAR, or sat up in living rooms drinking and chatting. There was a spirit of party about, not sure why. Somebody had a firework display at about 6.30 pm last night, only 4 days too late. A man sat in a parked silver car along the Prom, his engine was on and music pumped from it. One of his back windows had been pushed in and a plastic bag had been taped around the gap. The door to The Penguin Cafe was open as I walked past at 4 am. A man stood at the counter leaning over some files while another man sat at one of the benches with a cup of something. Only some of the overhead lights were on. More lights were shining from the doorway of the shop that used to be Thorntons along Great Darkgate Street and its metal barrier had been partly raised. I could see Newports of Aberystwyth etched on the glass of the door. I asked him at breakfast what it used to be and he didn’t know. There were five mobile homes at the harbour. I tried to let go of my thoughts and listen to the sea. In and out, rolling and pulling back. It is quite a discipline.

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.