Going somewhere. "They changed the landing path, at Gatwick" Bill says outside The Compasses, as I point my camera upwards to see what's there. "Here's a challenge for you", says a customer at a plant stall at Farmers' Market. "I want something with a lot of flowers to stick in the middle of the table and plant out in the garden afterwards. And our garden's very shady."
On the way to the market I meet an acquaintance. She is pushing a wheeled shopping basket. "Are you going to the Farmers' Market?" I ask and then regret the question in case she is. She is on her way to the Farmers' Market. I suspect that she does not relish the prospect of making small talk all the way up Mount Pleasant to The Town Hall. "You go on ahead," I say, "I don't walk very fast nowadays." "I'm a bit slow myself," she says. Is she being polite? Perhaps not. "I'll take the short cut," she says when she realizes that I am aiming to walk up Mount Pleasant, and dives into Mount Pleasant Avenue. I might have done and said the same. Either way the story ends happily.
2 comments:
Good novel name: Adult Evasions.
Good to know other people have the same disinclinations as I do. How satisfactory that you both recognised it without anyone feeling wrongfooted.
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