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I zoom in and out at The Europarc roundabout – sometimes Beechwood Farm is visible, others it is not. 2010. 2020. It just depends.
I sigh, because someone once told me that it’s ‘good for your health.’
I wait for a moment and feel the next wave of uncertainty flow through my central nervous system.
Birdsong temporarily redirects my thinking.
The lamp posts form a guard of honour along Europarc Way.
I feel sad for a yellow bollard as it waits on a neglected islet looking out across to the motionless A180.
I wandered into Tesco Cathedral at 10am with the Grimsby hoards. A stressed out woman rattled by the rush calls from behind: ‘Get out of my way dickhead.’ I breathe for a moment and remember the warmth of the Covid sun.
I haven’t managed to visit europarc for some time now.
I’ve noticed that one of the Origin buildings has been vacant for over a year…
Radio waves floated as the integrated wonder team feigned good health outside Genesis Office Park.
Exposed (cough…tick and tock) epicentre.
A red van passed the newly installed virus squad kiosk as a post-shift admin worker mumbled bitterly as he progressed along Pegasus Way.
“Try to assume that certainty was always uncertain.” He rasped.
“And you can stick your fractional shares up your ass.”