Now, trudging the cobblestones. he’s  anonymous. there. we’ve talked about it so much. age at the end of the garden path. remember the garden path? the dark sand, the dust, the dried grass, the scent, the sea. it went on forever. we thought it would. we believed it would.

And remember when the train came. the new diesel train. we ran down that path to see it roar past. clickety-clack clickety-clack. the seemingly endless carriages rolling towards the north. we yelled, cheered. I loved the noise. it was life. yes it felt like life.

Copyright © Graeme Perrin 2023