Raring to Go

There was still just enough time to walk to work, so I pulled myself away from the window, donned my once-a-year Wellingtons and put on the old student great coat. I snapped open the warped door, staggered under a blast of freezing air, pulled on my tea cosy hat and headed up the street, now almost enjoying the bagatelle forces which seemed to be gripping me. There was certainly a weird unreality in the world, as the icy wind warmed my cheeks, the frost crackled loudly underfoot, and the snow blew lazily upwards in concentric circles. I was spellbound, rather like a child walking into a fairground from the pitch black street, and I became aware that my senses were almost penetrating the objects about me, enhancing colours and forms, shadows and perspectives, sounds and smells. Bringing everything alive with magical ease.


One Response to “Raring to Go”

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