Looking for a beginning
I’m looking for one.
Not a beginning, but THE beginning.
It’s probably down there, along that street where the old antique shop is and where I can see there’s a weirdly dressed girl staring through the window and touching the glass with her finger tips, as if she hasn’t seen a window before, or glass, or a shop.
But anyway that’s where the girl is and it’s late, coming up to midnight. And there is another odd thing, there is a boy down at the cross roads and he’s just standing there. It reminds me of when I was sent down by our mad matron to stand in the classroom corridor for hours and hours and I could hear the headmaster and his family having their supper and the food they were scoffing looked a million times better than tinned tomatoes on water-logged toast that we had for tea. What is that boy doing there?
He’s noticed her but she hasn’t seen him.
A beginning?
Not sure.
Possibly.
Who knows?