Street Songlines: pocked with shadows...

quiet street in the Dromana Hills...

the road was wet with rain...

The road was wet with rain, black and shiny like oilskin. The reflection of the street lamps wallowed like yellow jelly-fish. A bus was approaching - a bus to Piccadilly, a bus to the never-never land - a bus to death or glory.

I found neither. I found something which haunts me still.

The great bus swayed as it sped. The black street gleamed. Through the window a hundred faces fluttered by as though the leaves of a dark book were being flicked over. And I sat there, with a sixpenny ticket in my hand. What was I doing! Where was I going?

("Same Time, Same Place")
Mervyn Peake - Weird Shadows From Beyond: An Anthology Of Strange Stories

Street Songlines

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Saturday 15 November 2014

pocked with shadows...

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