And stared at the Vitruvian man on the t-shirt
As she continued to search for the coins from her purse
As i wondered if i read Thoureau
As a memory of imagining oneself as Thoreau fell out
As i wondered if i should feel threatened by the man with dishavelled hair and torn clothes walking in the opposite direction
Puzzled if the light which shone from between the tree was the sun or a bulb
Secretly hoping that the labrador playing at a distance would come running to me
Carefully maneuvering between potholes and people
Thinking why the clock stuck six a few minutes earlier
Skilfully writing on my mobile with occasional glances on the pavement in order not to hit a bounder or brick
I wished it would rain
