A London Moment
Jun. 19th, 2002 11:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
major_clangerBethnal Green just after nine a.m., walking to the tube station from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
purplecthulhu's flat. A clear, sunny day, not yet too warm; earlier, I'd been standing on the balcony sipping coffee and admiring the view across East London from twelve floors up.
The pavement of the back street I'm walking down is not in good repair, with many paving stones loose and prone to shift alarmingly under my weight. In wet weather they'd be nasty booby-traps set to soak you with muddy water, but on a day like this they just tilt over noisily. Nonetheless, I try to walk around the ones I notice.
I'm caught by the smell of grass, a small patch of it to the left of me in front of one of the low blocks of flats that line this lane. A couple of dozen pigeons peck at it; perhaps someone has scattered some breadcrumbs or left some other morsel to temp them. Distracted for a moment, I step on another loose paving stone, a big one that shifts with a louder than usual clunk.
A sudden storm of flapping, as the flock of pigeons takes to the air and wheels against the blue sky for a second before disappearing behind the roofs in search of a quieter street.
MC
purplecthulhu's flat. A clear, sunny day, not yet too warm; earlier, I'd been standing on the balcony sipping coffee and admiring the view across East London from twelve floors up. The pavement of the back street I'm walking down is not in good repair, with many paving stones loose and prone to shift alarmingly under my weight. In wet weather they'd be nasty booby-traps set to soak you with muddy water, but on a day like this they just tilt over noisily. Nonetheless, I try to walk around the ones I notice.
I'm caught by the smell of grass, a small patch of it to the left of me in front of one of the low blocks of flats that line this lane. A couple of dozen pigeons peck at it; perhaps someone has scattered some breadcrumbs or left some other morsel to temp them. Distracted for a moment, I step on another loose paving stone, a big one that shifts with a louder than usual clunk.
A sudden storm of flapping, as the flock of pigeons takes to the air and wheels against the blue sky for a second before disappearing behind the roofs in search of a quieter street.
MC
