I went to London after work yesterday. Well, after school - I cancelled all the piano teaching and did a runner.
It's a fascinating place, compared to the small town that I live in. It's full of sights.
There's the girl with hair dyed all sorts of pastel shades - basically a sort of blonde, but with streaks of pale green, light blue, pink. I just need to stop and stare and work out what it is that I am seeing.
Or those shoes; black suede lace-ups, but with four inch heels, and platforms, and the soles completely solid, no arch, and the heels narrowing, a bit like the bow of an ocean going liner. How do you walk in them? Is it difficult to keep to keep your balance?
Now that's a great lap-top bag he's got - wonder where he bought it; The leather looks soft and I love the buckled pockets on the outside. Hey, look at HIS shoes! Do his toes go right to the pointy bit at the end? What's it like to have all that extra shoe and the end of your feet? Wouldn't it keep tripping you up the whole time?
Whoah! Did I really see cardboard cup-cake thrones for sale? Yup; two, a matching pair, all printed in red and gold and monogrammed ER and PP. Whoever dreamt up those ecological disasters, consuming forests of trees and all that electricity to run the machines that make them. No! She's actually buying them! She's PAYING MONEY and PURCHASING them! Wow!
All this and I am still in the station concourse. It doesn't get any easier, trying to walk around outside. I need to stop and stare at the buildings, see the window boxes, check out the mouldings and decorative plasterwork round the doorways, examine the detail on wrought iron gates, peer at a flower making its way through a crack in the paving...
And people keep bumping into me the whole time. Sorry. sorry. Beg your pardon.
SO sorry. My fault.