In May

In May wherever you are you are inundated with holidays it's May day it's Africa day it's Workers' day it's a bright long weekend in which to tan or drink or lose yourself in sweaty sheets with some insatiable body and when the train announcer says there'll be no service on this line this bank holiday and the radio's full of swine flu news like we're all going to go that way and the house being empty for various family visits and the kids having their own visitors and the train and traffic chaos everywhere I look I go thank fuck for that I don't have to go anywhere see anyone be with anyone meet anyone. Solitude forever and a weekend. Around the corner the urban green spots and nature walks are heaving with new life and there's not a soul in sight it's like a scene from 28 days later and occasionally some jogger goes by and maybe the world and his bitch are sleeping in but it's warm and bright and I'm throwing nuts around for whatever wildlife wants them and the t-shirt weather has me feeling a little delirious and I suppose I could work out a little before I go back to the business of inventing words and worlds but I'd rather be jumping in puddles.

Over in Mombasa my writing partner sends a note to say she's under pressure from the Americans about the pirate story and I go who are these folk and what's the nature of the pressure and it's only Bruce Willis types wanting a way into the story and ofcourse they can find a way didn't someone find a way into Sierra Leone with Blood Diamond our stories are as open as our mines anyone with a will can take a bite and the struggle is to make these tales our own how can that be done. So we write on and write cheaply let Bruce do the explosions and we do the heart. Over in the broken country my researcher rings to say the world is wrong, there is an air of great optimism it's as if the curtains have been opened and everything has changed. Bullshit I'm no cynic no way am I that but I've seen enough ups and downs and changes of wind to know that nothing is what it seems over there and she should just go ahead and find the dirt otherwise that film will not go ahead and she says no she can't find any dirt and I'm wondering whether to get back there. I'm thinking these thoughts when the emptiness of my walk disappears and there are dogs and joggers at every turn and the sun is climbing higher and a sweet old lady is taking pictures with one of those cameras that costs thousands and what the fuck is the point of that when you're using your lens to capture a duck or two but we all get really good at hiding our thoughts and she goes isn't it a spectacular day Yes it's marvelous I bet your camera loves the light Oh you know what they'll be my best pictures all summer the light's just different right now it's not as hazy. And the passion for her craft makes me feel a little guilty about my thoughts. Long days of May here they come.