February 13th 1938
- and my birthday. My twenty-fifth!
Past Battlesbridge (the Crouch seemed to have risen slightly) Beyond the area of whirling snowflakes. I lighted a cigarette as we drove on, and Pat suddenly leaned forward from her seat beside me, and took the wheel. This gives her a thrill, just steering. She was close to me; dark hair and no hat. Face intent on the road. It was bitterly cold and rough outside, but warm in the Zephyr. I leaned back comfortably, foot on the accelerator, and let her drive right through Rayleigh, Southend and up to the door at Victoria Avenue. I had a nice “crinkly” feeling at the back of my head. I used to call it “bread crumbs” when I was very small and Mother stroked my hair.
Past Battlesbridge (the Crouch seemed to have risen slightly) Beyond the area of whirling snowflakes. I lighted a cigarette as we drove on, and Pat suddenly leaned forward from her seat beside me, and took the wheel. This gives her a thrill, just steering. She was close to me; dark hair and no hat. Face intent on the road. It was bitterly cold and rough outside, but warm in the Zephyr. I leaned back comfortably, foot on the accelerator, and let her drive right through Rayleigh, Southend and up to the door at Victoria Avenue. I had a nice “crinkly” feeling at the back of my head. I used to call it “bread crumbs” when I was very small and Mother stroked my hair.
posted by Paul Wilson at 4:32 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home