Tony Grist (poliphilo) wrote,
Tony Grist

Blue Door

I'm wandering around with my camera the way I do and I've found a Victorian factory building that looks promising.

Crumbly red brickwork, blue door.

Cerulean blue, sky blue.

I line up the shot.

"Hello." A small, elderly man has come up behind me. His sparse black hair is plastered wetly across his skull. "Something you like about that door?"

He thinks I'm an industrial spy.

"Yes," I say, "the colour."

"The colour?"

I nod encouragement.

He looks at me sidelong. "Hm, well, yes, the colour...."

(He will entertain his friends with this story- "I met a right tosser this afternoon....")

I smile.

He gives up on me, refrains from casting his eyes skyward (I'm bigger and fitter than him) and walks towards the blue door.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.