As Zeus in ancient Greece, Allan scanned Oxford Street from above, through a series of closed circuit monitors. Reclined in a comfortable armchair Allan sat proud as he watched the square patch of space through monitors. He supped his tea as he watched a man fumbling with a plastic carrier bag near the bus stop. The man eventually came to rest by leaning on a railing as though waiting for a bus. Allan sat arms outstretched with his fingers tapping the console. Having stared at each screen for several hours and finding them interesting but not directly relevant to his life. He became bored. He began to imagine the passers by as people he recognised as being on TV the night before, on the news. He saw a young man that escaped from Rose View prison. He was supposed to be very dangerous the news reader had said. Since most black men were dangerous anyway he did not bother. Allan didn’t give it much thought apart from following the man’s movements from screen to screen down the length of Oxford Street, as he looked into all the shop windows.
Leroy was in awe of all the expensive clothes and fashionable items he had missed all these years. Overwhelmed by the sights and the mass of humanity, Leroy decided to make his way to Peckham where he was more familiar.
Perched on a bar stool, Leroy glanced for his profile only to be disappointed, at how he had aged. The current occupants of the tavern had removed the mirror; only the stained outline of the wall returned a dull shadow of the African fugitive. An Eastern European glossy bald headed barman snatched the money from his hand, the man’s smile was uneven and warm to cold. Feelings of pain racked Leroy’s body as unwanted emotions flowed through his mind: War, famine, hunger and manacles jingled around his arms and legs, Leroy had broken his term of bondage.
No comments:
Post a Comment