‘What I’d really like to do and I think it’d be really cool, if I could do this is ….’

and the white-haired man carrying his waste around his middle, strides past.

Dandily, holding a cigarette at arms waft, he brushes ash theatrically into the overhanging flora and fauna.

Loosely, at an unsteady trot, this drone is followed by a smaller bobble hat big bearded youth, beating out boredom and servitude in his flat foot pavement flop.

 

And in those four strides they are fixed in brain and gone from view.

 

In the next rotation of university square, in the next glimpse, solidity unravels as anorak and fleece unzipped they re-appear, all soft stress melt upon sharing joke, tall lilting laughter and smiles upon some mission complete.

 

And in those four and plenty strides all is released and remade anew.

 

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