Old and grey

There is a man feeding the pigeons at the town gate at five thirty in the morning. He has a large plastic shopping bag in his left hand, and he reaches in the take out a handful of breadcrumbs and throws these over the pigeons.
They pick and peck as is their wont.

He then goes through the town gate and feeds the remaining content of his bags to a small flock of Ducks, assembled at the weather statin by the river.

The bog cotton man is at the bus stop, smoking his cigarette. His hair is getting longer again. It will be waving about in the breeze soon. Dolores is in the bus shelter upon the bench. wish her a good morning too.
Look out over the river, it is bright, and but for a few clouds, the sky is clear. It will be a hot day, later.



at the railway station, say good morning to the smoker too. He has a big grin today. he with his rucksack on his back.
The cafe is crowded, the serving woman is so stressed that she stomps the little discount card  twice. That will make up for yesterday's omission.

Fidgety man is in the corner of the waiting room, arranging his three bags, and wiping his colourful ceramic mug: He has long heir, which he holds back out of his face using hair lips. His hair is old and grey; but he wears it long anyway.


Today, there is no concentration, after a night of coughing, and all the joints of all the arms legs hands and fingers are sore.
There was a promise to do a job today, and that promise will he held werever possible.