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Radio, Raid, Dogs & Trainers

It was a small gesture but it felt a right thing to do, even though it engendered an intimacy that had not been there previously. She mentioned it when we spoke on the phone, said how much pleasure she continued to get from it. I like to think of her with it, my little transistor that I used to have in my bathroom, tuning into to Radio Cymru in the early hours when she can’t sleep. Her voice sounded a little stronger. She misses walking the dog and being out in the fresh air. Keep her safe.

I was expecting the spectacle of three police vans and a clutch of police men and women blocking the road on South Road just before the Prom. A dog was barking. Whether it was coming from one of the police vans or from one of the houses I wasn’t sure. The police stood in a clutch seemingly waiting for something. They all wore masks. One of the policewomen looked as me as I approached, so I turned down a side road and made my way to the harbour. Was it a raid? There was no shouting or noise. It was eerily quiet. What were they waiting for? They were still there when I walked back from the harbour.

The pair of trainers that I’d seen on the Prom caught up in some seaweed and flotsam were no longer there. Had the sea reclaimed them?

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.