Saturday, 6 August 2016

HUGH GRANT, AN AVALANCHE AND A SUNSET

I'm back in the park. Tonight's sunset is gentle: orange and purple and a holiday blue. The sun has already winked between the trees and has sunk into the horizon. A night breeze whispers in my ears with the faintest of chills.

This is my place. Out here I'm free to think, pray, unwind, shout into the wind and watch the day fade out. I can breathe slower, hear my heart beating and listen to the rustling leaves. I can remind myself of all the things that I've achieved and all the things that have brought me joy. I can sing softly on the breeze and thank God that I'm alive.

A pile of boxes fell on my head today.

I was playing the piano when I stopped to hear a faint creaking sound. It was like the timbers of an old ship, coming from somewhere deep within the pile of cardboard boxes I keep in my spare room.

I was quizzical for about two seconds. Then the whole thing collapsed and rained down on me. Egg boxes, the box for the slow cooker, pizza boxes I was hoping to use as soundproofing, a load of those polystyrene S-shaped bean things and the manual for assembling the sofa bed formed a sort of cardboard avalanche and toppled with a crash, onto me, the chair and a couple of the low notes on the piano.

I sat there for a moment in shock. Then I realised I probably only have myself to blame.

The clouds change quickly. The orange is fading and the blue is turning purple. It's really quite beautiful.

"Excuse me," said a dark figure just now, "You don't mind me playing guitar do you? I mean it won't disturb you?"

"Not at all," I said. He's now sitting on the next bench strumming away. He's a young guy I think, looks a bit like Hugh Grant - blue jeans, floppy hair and a sports jacket. I think he might be writing a song for a girl and he's come out here for a little sunset inspiration.

I don't blame him.



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