Monday, 15 January 2018

If I had a...

net curtain I would have twitched it!

The scene before me was a cross between a ballet and mime.
In the darkness they gathered together their belongings carefully and meticulously.
Their head torches giving off an eerie light, I sat in the dark upstairs watching their every movement, fascination was the name of my particular game.
 The men of the beaten up old car and the ramshackle old van had had a full-on weekend of fishing.
I watched as they prepared to leave, the tents were packed away, the fish were divided up, the rubbish was carefully carried along to the bin.
The tackle was stowed into the vehicles, the water and wind proof gear was shrugged off and slowly they came back from the obviously absorbing world they had inhabited over the past two days.
As they drove away I tried to imagine what life they were 
returning to, whether a family awaited their return or just a hot shower and a sound kip in their single beds?  Today waking up away from the sea and back to their normal everyday lives?

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