The most recent attempt…
A FORGOTTEN COLOUR
Surrounded by thousands of spines Barbra plods along, her white hair flat against her head revealing a dappled scalp. The gold chain around her neck which holds her glasses clinks against the metal clamp of her name badge:
As she leans forward to scan my library card her breasts press her glasses onto the countertop and make a grating noise she is oblivious of.
Have you read my husband’s book?
It’s shelved in Non-Fiction H-L.
I’ll look next time, tomorrow probably.
It’s about a golf ball who goes on a journey to find the right green.
The little ball just rolls along – searching, searching.
I settle at my usual table, towards the back, to the right with a view of the large brick high school across the street. They don’t use brick much anymore. Too…
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