Tagged York

Fast and Purposeful 

Her pace was the same as always fast and purposeful. A woman in a hurry, on a mission. Tall and slim yet it was difficult to see her facial features. Not that they were covered or hidden. It was just that your attention would only be drawn to the rapid gait of the elegant young woman rushing along the busy city street. It was hard to tell her age maybe thirty. She was dressed smartly as if for business of some type. A grey skirt and jacket, white blouse with black shoes. She would strike you as someone rushing out…

Three Amigos

The world rushes by this city Sunday. The three amigos on the steps dancing, chilling, singing. Fifty, sixty or even seventy who knows? Tired faces, worn out clothes, shabby un-chic ready for anything caring for nothing. The great and the good, rush here, don’t look there quickly cross the street, “they might want money.” A tape machine with tinny tones of Bob Marley ‘Jammin’ straight from 77. A hint of alcohol, well more than just a hint an early morning top up from cheap sherry hidden out of view. Takes the edge off soothing cold tired bones. Lookout for cops,…

Freaky Friday

I passed a bus in York today. It’s lighted sign said ‘Not in Service’, of course it did. On freaky Friday’s things, just aren’t that simple and today is a very freaky Friday. The bus you see was full of folk’s tourist, shoppers, worker. Only I could see them it’s the truth, all anyone else could see was an empty bus. I saw it though I know the truth a never-ending ghost service eternally circling this ancient town filled with the lost and bereft. Ticketless souls who got on the bus but will never reach their destination.