Underworld; 21.10.2017

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Saturday 11th August

THE FIRST CYNIC:

It was a trip down memory lane, a return to an old world of
broken grey. The tubes weren’t working so I caught a taxi from
the station & from the off had an inclination that something
was out’ve sync. The brightly vested man at the rank opened
my door smiling, raising the spirits with his sing-song greeting
in the new customary manner here in Emerald City.
“Good morning sir, where would you like to go?” Ah, that was so nice,
still such a new device that it takes you by surprise but sends you
along your path one click lighter. I told him my destination, he passed
it onto the driver & closed the door. The cabby just stared at me,
waiting for me to tell him where I wanted to go. We crossed
an invisible line back into an old tradition, retraced old dance steps
as I told him, he responded with irritation, lifting an A-Z & thumbed
through. “I don’t know that one, got an address?” We drove at speeds
cabbies don’t drive here, dodging cyclists & smiling pedestrians.
I texted for better directions & passed them onto him. Eventually
I thought I’d try asking about his day. “Worst two weeks in all the
twenty years I’ve been cabby-ing! I’m paying to drive, but it’s alright
I haven’t bought any food so it’s evened out…” What followed was a
re-enactment of how it used to be, in a world only a week ago, & how
I might be again in a few days time when all the helpful, smiling,
brightly vested volunteers have disappeared from our streets & we
are delivered back into the waiting arms of cynics. Of course,…
it doesn’t have to be like that…I paid, smiled, walked away, feeling
lighter & more grateful with every step. Behind me the cab was trying
to pull out into traffic, furiously honking it’s horn…

In the north The Speed of  Light is painting pictures on the hills.

(K)

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