Post thensterday

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A screeching laugh echoes along the europarc way corridor from an admin worker outside the Seafood Institute.
“See you on Monday.”
Ringing in the ears compliments the sound of the fan whirring behind me at the  factory of youth.
A red helicopter makes its way across the Humber.
Tyre ghost scars on the makeshift car park gravel.

A car crawls by and pauses for a moment.
Croaky exhaust.
Blue Ford.
Drives away.
Banked up soil at the car park edges.
Wasteland clock flower memorials.
Lovelessness.
Grit.
Factory workers on foot and bicycle.
Two magpies wait on Europarc Way roundabout. One hops about in the car park next to The Seafish building.
Purple and white Interconnect bus number two passes by and waits outside The Innovation Centre.
Washed up banks of mud swamp faded memoryscapes.

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