Titanarum

No milk for my coffee when I got up (blame: man with munchies hitting the cereals), so had to get some. Our nearest shop is 10 minute’s walk away if you shoot through the very narrow, ill lit, heavily littered alley connecting the low rise estate I’m on and the open prison.
The alleyway gained notoriety a few years back when a prisoner due for release was killed there early in the morning. The shot to the head had been silenced so they reckon it was a professional job. The victim was a former IRA man and revenge for blabbing doesn’t seem unthinkable. The whole area was turned into a crime investigation scene with no go taped areas and everybody getting a visit from Scotland Yard. Very exciting. The perpetrator is still around, to my knowledge, but unlikely to kill me as I’m only blabbing to my friends and not about anything important.

Anyway, that was the alley I walked through to get to the corner shop. Elated I listened to the birds and felt the gentle misty rain on my skin. Past the open prison it got busier. A paper boy, a road cleaner, lots of cars heading for Ham gate into Richmond Park. One man was running to get the bus into Kingston. I strolled, happy as a bee on a fat flower.