Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Why Don't You Smile Now
It's Monday afternoon, and I'm gliding back through London on a high after Glastonbury. The combination of a perfect weekend, a gentle hangover and four nights of sleep depravation have left me in a dreamlike state. I can hardly feel the rucksack on my back. My shoes are caked in mud and my hair is a mess. Few can have any doubts as to where I've been. I escape Finsbury Park tube into the bright sunshine, and see two fellow campers, still wearing their festivals guides around their necks. We exchange the very broadest of grins and I feel all warm inside.
And luckily that feeling has stayed with me. Everyone at work today remarked that I'd obviously had a great time, just from my expression. I showed off my frankly pathetic tan and reeled off my highlights. But they were happy to listen patiently cos I bought them several bags of Haribo from Swindon station on my train journey home. Know your audience...
At lunch, I'm still on full beam. I have a wander to Paperchase with my very best work friend to buy more fun supplies for my latest artistic endeavours. A girl in the queue parallel to me meets my gaze, and I automatically smile at her. My London instincts haven't quite returned yet. And yet in return she gives me the most wonderful heart-stopping smile that lights up her whole face. Her queue is faster than mine and she soon pays for her bundle of arty treats and heads out into the sunshine.
I rather hope my London instincts never return...
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