For A Change
By Chris Belson from Wellingborough
as I reached my house, I carried on walking. I didnt stop,
didnt give it a second look, just carried on walking down
the street. Past the telephone pole, past the two private bungalows,
past the rippling stream with the bank of spring daffodils, just
taking my time, slowly walking.
The air was clear and hot, but there was a light refreshing breeze
cooling my skin down as I moved. For this time of year, it was blissful
and idealistic. Respiration increased and faces tanned. Smiles were
smiled and waves waved by every hand. No waves were exchanged by
me, I just wandered, and smiled and respired.
A small boy just threw a stone over the road to attract the attention
of a friend. I can hear a group of girls behind me, laughing about
my big headphones. I just didn't fancy going home today. I didn't
fancy sitting down at my window and watching the paper boy struggle
up the hill on his bike. The television tells my sisters i won't
be missed, as they glue themselves to their seats and eat the lunches
they didn't eat at lunch time.
I floated with the breeze, down into town. I floated up Sheep Street
and a thousand estate agents and last nights discarded kebabs. I
travelled with time, in one straight line. I couldn't stop and didn't
look up at church clocks and pulled my sleeve over my watch.
As i reached the market square, the crowds of school kids broke
their bond and dispersed into shops. Some to buy food and some to
look at smaller headphones. The ones that fall out of your ears
and ruin your songs. I carried on moving, back into the suburbs.
Along side the dog walkers and stuggling paper boys. To the left
were some playing fields. Large kids in studded boots, taking penalty
shots at considerably smaller kids, in smaller studded boots.
On the other side of the road was a row of front gardens. Several
lawnmowers cut the grass of several, otherwise seamless lawns. Every
garden just like the next, every hedge like every hedge.
I eventually reached the edge of the town, so i found a bench and
sat down. I don't know whether i feel the need for an adventure.
Not now. For to wander beyond this small amount of change in routine
would be a great feat. Maybe tomorrow, you know, 'another day' as