Friday, March 16, 2007

Picture the scene

Scott Street, Perth.

Walking South towards the Insch yesterday morning at about a quarter to ten. I was on my way from the opticians back to the car, and as I passed the bus stop, I saw a man bending down to pick something up. He wasn't anything special: short and thin; shrunken like old men are, I'd have put him at about seventy. He was dressed in a mid-grey suit; white shirt and dark tie; pork pie hat partly obscuring his freshly shaven, slightly pointy face. Any other time, I'd have forgotten him as soon as the next person caught my eye.

But as I came closer, and he stood up, I saw that he was wearing loose-fitting latex gloves - the sort you get in hair-dye packages and fibreglass kits from the DIY store. He had retrieved a thin, pink, elastic hair band from the gutter and was rolling it onto his left wrist as I walked past. A keepsake?

I've absolutely no idea what he was doing, but I feel sure he'll be turning up in a book sometime soon.

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3 Comments:

Blogger Sandra Ruttan said...

I had a great comment to make about this yesterday and was going to post it.

Blogger was being pissy.

And now the thought is gone...

March 17, 2007 7:05 pm  
Blogger JamesO said...

Isn't that always the way it goes.

March 18, 2007 5:08 pm  
Blogger Trace said...

Weird how things like that stick with you. For me, it can be just some little snippet of conversation that will stay with me for years and show up in a story.

March 20, 2007 1:57 pm  

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