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Diana Webb

Appointment with Time

A brown photograph on the wall distracts me while I wait. Halfway down the familiar curved slope to the river, a tree in full leaf casts shade on the pavement, spilling over the kerb into the road towards a bold chimney shadow. Opposite, Phillips, Grocer, Draper, agent for Twinings Teas, Dewars Whisky. Three stone steps up (I climbed only two) between dark-framed shop windows. Just in the entrance to the neighbouring alleyway, two ladies in wide brimmed hats, their bodies, clothed in late Victorian fashions, slightly blurred.

cut and blow dry—
in the mirror
ghosts