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Fresh Antipasto: The musician.
I'm tired, and I'm wondering why I'm not yet in bed. The day has been strange, all woven and twisted and dyed different colours. My connecting train in the morning didn't connect - the train before that was stuck at the station with an engine fault. I wandered down to the second-last carriage and said a brief hello to the Chinese lady whom I knew would be there. I invited her to walk with me, but she preferred to wait even if she was late for work.
So I stumbled through the park alone, with dew and grass accumulating on my new shoes, lost in thoughts of days gone and hours yet to come.
Posted by sniffles at April 20, 2002 12:49 AM