Moments In Time

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7007064730_e46bcdc352Sunday, I went to Greenwich, wandered around the market.  In the crowd I felt lonely and reached out for a familiar voice, called an old friend I’d last seen in that exact spot.  She didn’t pick up, or rather the number wasn’t recognised.

It’s one of those cold sunny days.  I wander down to the river, sit on a bench and read.  Chilled by the wind I retreat to a cafe.  The reviews have piqued my curiosity: ‘delicious coffee‘ and ‘charming staff’.

There’s only one seat free – literally a chair, near the till.  The waiter grins in greeting.  ‘Hello!’

He’s wearing linen trousers, a beautiful embroidered jacket in earthy, exotic tones, and on his head a chocolate brown fedora.  I return his smile and take the offered seat, open my book.  A table comes free; I move my things, pull out a notebook.

‘Are you writing?’ the man in the hat says in passing.


‘Ah, I thought you were – I saw you on your phone and wondered if that’s what you were doing!’

I glance at the abandoned notebook and laugh.  ‘Yes, I seem to write more and more on here now!’

‘I wrote two plays on my phone!’ he says, also laughing.

‘Do you have anything online, a blog?’

‘No but…’

He’s needed at the counter.

‘… I’ll give you something, before you leave.’

His tone is conspiratorial.  I grin.  ‘OK!’


I pull on my wrist-warmers, check the contents of my bag, twice.  He looks over.  A queue of customers fills the shop.  I tear a scrap of paper off my notepad, write out the link to the blog.  He pauses en route to a table.

‘You’re leaving?’

‘Yes, but,’ I hold the paper out, ‘this is me!’

MBE to be precise.

He takes it.  ‘Thank you!’

‘Nice to meet you!’

‘You too!’

I step out onto the pavement.  The sun is warm upon my face.  Smiling, I bend my steps in the direction of the station.

CC Image courtesy of Ivy Dawned on Flickr

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