A glint from off a mudribboned
gravel and chalkstone hillock
It was brilliant
it held the sun in its teeth like a nugget or sliver of lightning
It yanked his eyes
off the traffic running ahead of him
strands of barbedwire from a
broken fence threw themselves inbetween them trying to
blindfold it
but
its brilliance eclipsed them
it fixed a molten eye on his
daring
him to stare back
its impervious gaze burned a
black spot on his retina
and hurtling past it
it
was gone
a
cheap glass bottle heaved up onto the wayside replacing it
1321, John Lennon’s Moanday, 8 12.
14
