“If it’s sunk, it’s sunk, and it’s sunk. It’s not floating, it’s sunk.”
Archive for April, 2009
My wife and I in a car. A large, white, American car. My wife’s driving.
It’s dark, raining. Black shiny road. White lines. Hedges either side.
We’re away from home in the UK somewhere. Devon?
I have a train to catch. Or is it a plane? Mustn’t miss it.
We pull up outside the station. Police (foreign police?) are checking documents.
This worries us.
Not long to go until departure time, which is at quarter-to the hour.
Then we realise we’re at the wrong station.
There’s only minutes left.
We’ll never make it.
We can’t turn the huge car around in the narrow lane.