tales from an ordinary world
2001-09-04
On the way home at lunchtime, I saw a ghost, an echo, at the tramstop. Previous lives, or at least, a reminder of one. In the chair with my mouth open, he seems to say everything three times, presumably to make it true. Scrape, poke, rinse, spit. Afterwards, I take my discman for a walk around the block, tuning out from the people and the bikes and the cars. I don't really stand out today in my black and white clothes, and normal head.
Current Listening :
Blood Red River, by The Scientists.
