THE SHOCK OF BEING RECOGNISED BEFORE I REMEMBER MY NAME:
Predawn drive to small town. A luxury of parking spaces waits
with open arms,leaf mould ankle deep high in gutters. I am the
millionth customer, the first across the finish line, won gold
rewarded in space & time. Blacktop cracked beneath my trainers,
three stripes left, three right. Pavements dry as bones, parched
by a chill wind from the East, St Petersburg-whispers numb the tips
of ears & fingers.
Found a corner of a cafe where the phones don’t work. Whipped some
porridge on my synaptic connections, to let the world in. Let the
pen dance across the paper, figure skating between thin lines of
translucent blue, notebook specific. I’m surfing morning grooves
in reverie when a face invade, comes close, peers through the
expression I’m hiding behind. “Hello” it says, it knows my name,
noticing a subtle recoil I’m too slow to conceal.