Sad

Seeing how fragile an elderly relative is getting, and thinking about how one of these springs will be their last spring. Realising how much I love them. Not knowing how to think about those things in combination.

A dead swan on an overpass near Huntingdon: a tangle of weight and feathers, thrown against the metal fence, the white feathers spattered with grime and spray. The long neck, doubled back on itself. The traffic whooshing past.

The ten year old boys standing on the seats in the supermarket car park, spitting on the pavement, swearing noisily and unconvincingly, and dressed in pathetic, cheap imitation of [insert name of contemporary rap artist here].