[insert dedication here]
I cannot visualise Miss Plimsoll, but can only deduce her
Miss Plimsoll didn’t belong to me at all
I paced two platforms thinking about Miss Plimsoll on the day of her arrival
I know, however, that Miss Plimsoll was there all the time
Miss Plimsoll assumes definite outline for me only after we had left
Miss Plimsoll gazed out in the direction of Dover
Miss Plimsoll wore dog-skin gloves which smelt faintly of ammonia
Suddenly there descended upon me the fingers of Miss Plimsoll trembling violently
Miss Plimsoll grated somewhat upon my father’s nerves
Miss Plimsoll’s nose was sharp and pointed like that of Voltaire
I was persistently irritated by the fluid nature of Miss Plimsoll’s nose
Miss Plimsoll was annoyed at this
As usual Miss Plimsoll dissolved into tears
Miss Plimsoll called me into her bedroom and told me to sit down
I succumbed to Miss Plimsoll
Miss Plimsoll had me to herself
Miss Plimsoll behaved so admirably by sitting up with me until I fell asleep
I ran barefooted along the colonnade hoping to find Miss Plimsoll
“Miss Plimsoll!” I called to her; there was no answer
“Miss Plimsoll!” I called again; the silence shouted back at me
.
Martin Stannard
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