He calls them ‘The Girls’. How are ‘The Girls’ doing? he asks. Have you been to see ‘The Girls’? The Girls (aka the sweet peas) are doing OK. The ones that have survived, that is. There is still a dead plant (I think) amongst them but I haven’t had the heart to take it away yet. Perhaps it will come back to life under the influence of the, seemingly thriving, others. It is a mess. They are a mess, sending out their twirls and hooks onto each other rather than the stakes, which may be too thick for them. But they are bursting forth, upwards and outwards. Don’t fiddle, Ellen. Leave them to it.
Town was full (well, I say full) of wandering youngsters, most a little worse for wear. The Day and Night Bar was still open, well the lights were on and four people were sitting at a table talking. Perhaps they were the bar staff. Three kids ambled down Llanbadarn Road, one girl was on her phone talking loudly. Josh threw up, she said, clearly repeating what someone had told her and not showing either concern or surprise, is he at home?
There was a single light out on the sea, a fishing boat, bobbing.
