See you on Saturday

The postman looked new.

He clearly didn’t know what he was doing.

I asked him if he had the redirected mail for no 4.

He did, after a while.

He volunteered that he was going to Yeovil straight afterwards, to go to his father’s funeral. 56. Of cancer. In a hospice.

I touched him on the arm.

All felt strangely natural…

He said: See you on Saturday. And went.

This sort of stuff would NEVER HAPPEN IN LONDON!


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I had a stroke on July 26th, 2013. I was a screenwriter. Don’t do that anymore. But have found another way to write.

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