I sit on a old bench watching people go by it’s lovely putting a story behind the individual you encounter going about his daily routine smiling, or looking serious. She puts her shopping down in haste to reach into her pocket. It looks important maybe she is late for a doctor’s appointment, or a meeting for new job. Then I hear her say the dryings in the dryer can you take it out before it gets creased.
There must be money or something on the pavement everyone is looking down at the floor, they don’t see me I am invisible, I offer my hand with a £20 note in it, there are no takers.
I sit down with my back against the shop window I feel a little sick, many people young and old pass by still looking for something on the pavement. They don’t see me as my face drops on the left side, pain is rushing through my heart, one person puts 20 pence next to my feet. Another a Costa Coffee.
I sit still while the world rolls on like a new electric locomotive no time to stop for anything, 20 mins go by people stand with masks on like a Hollywood movie, all staying apart walking in the road, mumbling strange words like he is not 2 metres apart.
One person stops after hundreds and asks if I am ok. I can’t answer as my stroke has happened while people rushed to by toilet rolls and Pasta things we can’t do without, the world of no imagination or skills in improvisation.
Not to worry I should be on YouTube Facebook or Tiktok as a sick video.
Will the world care, I fear not.