Heading round to Eastbourne. Again

It has just turned Sunday morning. Craig is just about sleeping but I? I am sitting in our giant brown chair (far too giant for our miniature wondapartment) sipping water and listening to the city outside.

It is full of heels on pavement, this Sunday morning, the drunken bawl of men & keen of women. The low thrum of the traffic. The far off bass of a covers band. Laughter and broken glass. In a few hours the streets will smell foetid & worn.

The city is making the most of tonight.

So am I.
Sitting cool & quiet. Sipping water, bare legged, I am content.

(I could be out there. Often I am. But not tonight.)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s