big fat fella inside the front door of Whiteys Locksmiths on Fifth

in a wide screen tshirt stretched across his belly

supervises the scratching of his own back

on a sample board, he

catches my eye

and grins.



I’m arrested

by a dazzling orange & white racing bike

standing in the window of a Belgian Beer house in front of two

dishy looking men about to chow down while hammering out some deal.

I am drawn more to the bicycle, particularly the ad above it, which promises it could one day be mine

Like a being possessed,

I head straight for the window menu

proving the theory of its creator no doubt that the ad worked

……………..but not on me,

We all say that, don’t we?

A man tries to get in too & have a look.

Is it the bike, the menu or me he is so feverish to be close to?

I sneak a peak at him – Belgian looking, mm,  soft baby stubble, mm, green eyes I think, mm

Short, mm. Shorter than me.

Afraid to look me in the eye.

Walk on brother.

I need a brave one.

A large spirit to come out of a tree, weathered and fresh and green.

(C) Amy Redmond 2014


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