Journey
There was a fiendish chill over London this morning, though the clear blue sky turning seamlessly into driving snow somehow made it bearable, awakening a strong sense of nostalgia for winters past (even though these perfect winters past are, of course, total figments of the imagination, cooked up by Christmas card imagery and other sentimental imposters).
Stood amidst a gaggle of giant schoolgirls on the bus, gossiping maliciously and relentlessly about their ‘friends’ – who, for some reason, all seemed to have names beginning with the letters TA: Tanicia, Takarta, Talassia (whose new haircut makes her look like a boy, apparently), Taquila, Takakakakaka. (Okay I made some of them up).
Then grappled with the life or death battle that occurs daily at the infamous City Road/Goswell Road linking cycle lane – where pedestrians and cyclists bare their teeth at each other and practise their best swear words amongst a chaos of wheels, bells, fluorescence and general animosity. Never mind killer whales hunting defenceless seals, David Attenborough need look no further for all of nature’s cruelty in an urban jungle setting.