Tuesday 10th July

THE VOICE WITH THE MARKET TRADER PANTS:

Rampant slugs, staring up at the sky greet me on the path as I rush
face full into the day. A muntjack dazed on the side of the road where
deep cover was cleared by the farmer’s scythe. Out’ve milk I couldn’t face
the ambience of the megga-store chain, so parked up on an empty road
& legged it to the family store. Walking back through the market square
traders setting stall before the rush. A vision of the pants of the bloke with
the legendary voice greet me as I race back clutching breakfast, grinning
gratitude for all these tiny things reminding me I’m alive not numbed-out
in a lonely room or rushing full-face into everything.

(K)