Sport 34: Winter 2006
Weather
Weather
The wind likes to say to people, over and over, 'Who are you?'
The people say, 'Piss off, we don't need to know that yet.'
All the same, they are disconcerted, walking down the street with the wind in their pockets.
The cold is a bastard. The wind is a worse one. You look around everywhere for things you can chop up. Go into the town belt and fill plastic bags with pine cones. In the twilight the trees turn folktale on you, you think up all kinds of stories. Doomed love. The sunsets are spectacular. You've dropped something somewhere, and by the time you realise, it's too late.