One moment

There is something poignant and memorial-like like about sitting in a quiet pub on a Monday afternoon, watching the barmaid rush about trying to get ready for the evening trade, in a small rural place, where there is only one other table occupied, and the Dark Star wisdom is going down well, while on the muted soundtrack there is a whisper of some female singer caressing Elton John’s Your Song (the best song he ever wrote, apart from Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting of course) and making you feel as if all life is concentrated into this moment, and the dog is sitting quiet beneath the table and the words have tumbled onto the page. Death is always around the corner but for some reason death has been held at bay with this poignant and memorial like moment. And if by some strange sense of synchronicity the beer that I drink is called Revelation.