Passing. The South Bank of the Thames.
It strikes me that it takes courage to stand alone in Grosvenor Precinct and talk about redemption as though addressing a congregation, when no one, but no one, stops to listen. The modest looking man with a wad of leaflets in his hand, is no orator, but he believes in trying to get a message across, and is not going to be defeated.
Two bicycles are tethered and padlocked to steel hoops set into the pavement for that purpose. There is a plaintive, almost animal look about their handlebars pointing in different directions as though looking for a means of escape.
Lucy's reply to What's for lunch? is on Compasses. One commentator has remarked that the dialogue, as it is evolving, is like people having a conversation over water. My own feeling is that it is taking place between two people in a beautiful world where cruel and threatening shadows darken the horizon.
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