Submitted by Pippa on 18 October, 2011 – 18:13
This is a stop on the road, a respite, therapy to ease the journey between his childhood and the future. On the way home to the now quiet house we sit in this cafe, removed from time, out of kilter with normal life. We gaze down the hill at the red tiled roofs, the cobbled street where people we'll never meet live their strange lives. The early morning mist still lurks, curling into dips and corners, and I wish we could stay here, suspended, strangers. You read a dog-eared copy of Country Life, check house prices, point out properties. I watch you, wish you were serious. Never mind a mansion, a simple shack will do tucked in a corner at the gate of his campus.