One day seems pretty

much like the next except
at the same time it’s completely
different, and who we are depends
upon it. This evening there will be
a meeting of the committee
and we have no choice but to attend.
Having trained to be a member of
the acting profession it makes
absolute sense to be working as
a sales assistant in a department store
and driving a cab at night and
you’re making a good fist of it.
Whatever the plan was
and whatever notebook it was
recorded in it’s all been
replaced by a very neutral flavour of
wallpaper on a wall. But there has never
been anyone else. As you flick
back through the ledger the same things
show up time and time again
and patterns can be traced and
blame assigned.
It’s not worth caring
much any more. Go open the kitchen
door and let the cat in, smell the Spring
as it approaches from wherever it is
it went and come again tomorrow. It’s as
if our little excitements define us
but we can’t be certain about the truth of that.


Martin Stannard
Illustration: Claire Palmer


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