Snaps

Big green square fields, edged with dark stone walls, laid out slant in the rationed light. Cows browsing. A carved pumpkin on the windowsill.

Memory of the man with a fistful of pizza slices on the South Bank, the seagulls whirling white and noisy about his head. A bite for him, a bite for them. His bushy beard and camouflage trousers. Me still on my bench, sticking my feet out to try and stop people walking in front of me, as I gazed out at the boats, buildings and beachcombers. Recording snatches of conversation in my notebook...