A little bit of prose I wrote yesterday;
I am already imagining the pang of driving past Maccies, and knowing you are not there any more. No place for me to be drawn to, no glass box in the heart of Kensington, holding something that has swiftly become so precious to me, that I cannot keep away. Where am I going to go for my fix now? Such a strange three weeks, buffeted by emotions; loss, drama, joy, misery, anger, laughter, tears, music, poetry, endless cups of coffee, chocolate and chips and a plethora of tall boys and short girls. I will miss you very much indeed.
1 comment:
If you'd have written it as a story you wouldnt believe it.....Big thank you to everyone who contributed from the presenters, the listeners of which there were many, to all the people who kept it together when it looked like it wasnt going happen not forgetting the godfather of radio Carl Speare...
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