Mary Jane 2040
Under the Junction
I met a boy on a trip home from University. A trip to the local to catch up with school friends. That awkward moment when last orders have been called and you realise that you don’t want to leave the pub alone. Because after last orders are called there is only drinking up time to look forward to, and spilling out onto the dark night punctuated by the glow of street lights. The walk to the bus. And the ride home alone. So when that boy caught my eye I smiled back and we arranged to meet the next day at the gates to Greenwich Park.
I waited under the railway bridge – I remember that light, the kind that can only come from low flat bridges. Like there is a heaven somewhere else, but not here, because here everything is flat and grey. I took the bus with a heavy heart, because in the cold light of Sunday I knew this was not the boy for me. I sat upstairs and when it came to my stop I looked down on ants of people milling around the park gates. I gazed up at the kites flying high above Blackheath. The bus sailed on, with that little princess me looking down at the ants below, wondering if he was waiting.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Debra Broughton and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
