Parks and Sun

In the evening I went to find my best friend in a park. The city has started to explode with the coming of the summer. Daffodils are shooting up everywhere like crack addicts. The people are swarming. You forget how many people there are in this town. Then the sun comes out and everyone simultaneously says “Let’s go to the park.” Thank God for the plague. There’s an example of something really shit ending up as something positive. Hundreds of thousands of gangrenous people coughing up blood and shivering to death. They had to be buried somewhere. They fertilised some great comfortable green spaces that can’t be safely built on. 350 years after the plague we have lots of lovely parks.


We sat in one and listened to a young guy in camouflage murdering The Eagles. Hotel California is one of the best known tunes that can be played on guitar before you’ve got the finger strength to bar properly. I wonder if The Eagles did that on purpose. I wonder how many places in the world that song was being played simultaneously at that moment. I wish you could get statistics on stuff like that. Also what is it with camouflage again? It’s like the nineties. Maybe it’s because we’re all so broke with this atrocious economic mess and all the cool kids are buying from Army Surplus. At least they’ll have fatigues when Trump triggers WWIII – What’s that? He already has? Ahh. Ok. Well maybe in 350 years something lovely will come about as the result of all this shit.

Walking to the South Bank was an obstacle course. Everyone was posing for photographs, skyping their spouse, skateboarding, parading, drunk stumbling, sharpening elbows. This city really is a melting pot of humanity. You see so many people, hear so many flashes of story. Sometimes it’s hard to take it all in – wildly contradicting states of being all crammed right next to each other. When I’ve been away a while it all feels like white noise. Looking around though you can see why they’re all here. It’s gorgeous and it’s ancient.


Minnie and I associate each other with the sunshine now. I am affected by the seasons. In the winter I am thoughtful and introverted and in the summer I am playful and extroverted. For a long time, one of the first things I’d do on a sunny day was phone her and leave one of my trademark endless directionless rambling answerphone messages. Now we almost automatically think of going for walks in parks when the weather turns to good. I often think I’d be totally screwed without my friends. They tell me when I’m being a dick, and help me unravel all the knots that I am capable of tying myself in with my overactive imagination. I’m getting an early night tonight as tomorrow I’ll be dressing up smartly to support one of them at The Olivier Awards. He’s produced a beautiful and timely play – Rotterdam – which started in Theatre 503, transferred to The West End and is now about to go to New York. It’s a gem of a play. I’m excited to see how the whole thing plays out on the night.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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