joe bloggs

In out-of-focus blue blur, a slew of sun-filled days rolled by.

Every morning I woke with a ravenous appetite for food and fun.

Sometimes, before breakfast, I crossed the road that ran along the coast, walked onto the sand. If it was already hot, I swam.

My cousin was not an early riser at all. Knowing I was, my aunt asked me to bring the newspaper or some milk and bread from the shop half a mile down the road. I didn't walk down the road, I crossed to the beach, walked along the beach, crossed back to the road where the shop was. Crossed again and walked back along the beach.

That was morning.

The days were long, there were girls on the beach.

Every night I marvelled at the sight of the sun, a giant red saucer, dropping into the ocean, after throwing its dying light around like a mad painter squirting red and gold all over the landscape.

I crossed the road every night just to watch it, around eight-thirty, after dinner in the caravan.

Sometimes my cousin watched it with me.

*

On the radio in the caravan:

she danced around and round
to a guitar melody
from the fire her face
was all aglow
how she enchanted me
oh how i'd like to hold her near
and kiss and forever whisper in her ear







is it time for a nap yet? i think so