a secret place

Anxious, we drove out of the city to a national trust mansion in the countryside. It was a bright crisp early spring day, intoxicating air gave a new sense of meaning, and there was so much hope floating around us it pumped into our hearts. It was sunny, but cold and still the snow scattered over the horizon. We looked into the bookshop, the William Faulkner books they sold I’d already read - you took my photo by your favourite door, and we let the sun set our dreams ablaze. We drove onwards, now addicted to the freshness of country life, straight to a seaside town, where it was still 1957, The Viennese coffee shop had closed, so we drank a coffee in some greasy café, where the only newspapers they had were the daily mail and the news of the world, everyone was eating chips with big bags under their eyes. It was fun. We looked down at the sea, you pointed out the surfers to me, and we watched them a little, before driving home to talk to your little sister on a crackling phone-line in Romania. The future is happening now, any day now our little son our little son….

Music >> sigor ros “takk “ yann tierson “les retrovailles “ hefner “dead media” jack kerouac “poetry” seafood “as the cry flows” nme free cd from last week, rainer “live from tuscan”, Juliana hatfield “in exile deo”, karate “unsolved”, bright eyes “don’t be frightened of turning the page”, secret stars “secret stars”, Mozart 2006 anniversary cd, blonde redhead right now….
Reading >> dostoyevsky ‘the idiot” and William blake poems…

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