Life in the city
The city is still in
slumber or just being aroused for the day when I go out for my walks in the
morning. Apart from delivery lorries parked in loading bays to stock the shops
I pass by, there isn’t much activity to see. That suits me as the absence of
people and crowds means I do not have to don a face mask for the most part of
my walk.
Brian recognises that
soon after work, I do need a nap before I decide what else to do in the late
evening. He has somehow urged me to go out probably for another long evening
walk, which might be helpful to tire me out of the throes of insomnia, but
there was much else to see especially after the easing of the lockdown measures
in England.
Lights, chairs and
tables
Out of my door and up
the street, there was Canal Street, the gay village, all lit up and busy,
chairs and tables on the pedestrianised street, I cannot account for whether
there was adequate social distancing, the city was indeed abuzz. The back
streets for which new licenses were granted were no more thoroughfare to vehicular
traffic but now bustling aisles and pavements of alfresco dining.
Further on, some
premises and businesses had died Covid-19 deaths, they were not open, the doors
shuttered in the finality of regret that they could not endure the economic
strains of the pandemic, a club that caters for patrons absent of class, style,
or manner had followed that tale of woe for which with difficulty I mustered a
bit of sympathy.
Gems make affordable
Then Primark, much as
I do shop at Fortnum & Mason that is in the same Wittington Investments Limited conglomerate was having a late closing time. I will not buy a shirt
or a suit there, but there are gems in the store at affordable prices.
A good woollen jumper
and sexy track bottoms along with a few handy accessories, it was busy enough
with people who wore their masks on their chins probably due to the
protuberances on their faces being too big to be concealed by the healthy
requirement of a mask. Did I hear they are called noses too?
Thinking of Brian, we
can share trousers, his waist slightly thinner than mine, but we have the same
leg length, or just about. He is taller than I am. Jackets, however, we can’t as
my chest is bigger, we have to give or take 3 to 4 inches, he risks looking
like a scarecrow in my jacket, though what a laugh that would excite. I hope the
life that has returned to Manchester is not the precursor for another lengthy
shutdown.
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