Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Another Letter to the Broken Pavement
He sat down in the soggy pile of leaves and pulled them round him. He hadn't meant to. He had been on his way to the shops and had seen the leaves piled next to the park railings. There was a memory somewhere telling him to do so, but he couldn't remember what. He didn't care. The feel of the wet leaves on his cheeks was delightful.