Monday 20 April 2015

Feeding the Fran-thousand

Walking to the tube at Easter I glimpsed a spindly procession of people winding through the park, singing, led by a berobed Priest holding a sceptre. Two followers were weighed down by the crucifix. It was raining and I felt a bit sorry for their meagre attendance in this confusing modern world in which all people I know definitely don't think it's a good idea to walk around in the rain believing a story in a scroll.

I thought maybe I should join them to cheer them up. Louis tells me he's glad we're together so he doesn't have to eat pizza alone each evening. Maybe they'd be equally buoyed by my presence.

But my new union wasn't to last as long as the one with my beloved (yes, two years, I know right). They and their huge cross congregated in front of the tube as I needed to enter it, thus cutting short my path into Catholicism as they lengthened my journey to Euston. EXCUSE ME!

I reflected on my day as I tucked into my fish pie at Mum's later and concluded that when there's mash and cheese sauce involved  it's much nicer to be alone. Or just have a Mum who's a slow eater.


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