cold october rain

It’s getting very cold. They’re roasting chestnuts on the corner and selling them in brown paper bags. Unctuous, floury, a little bit sweet, and very warm. The chestnut people have a little shack set up next to the barbecue. It’s clad in fake wood paneling and inside it has floral carpet, a calendar with photographs of district views and a small television. It looks like a living room from a Martin Parr photograph. All this outside a flashy supermarket on the main street of this wealthy little town.

I’ve never worn a puffy jacket inside city limits before. I look like a geezer. I’m waiting for Matt to send me my The Streets album so I have a soundtrack to match my look.

There is a roller-skating rink next to the school. When I am here at night I can look in through their windows and see the kids making slow circles around the floor. I can’t hear the music. The school is in a brand new commercial complex. Most of the offices and shops are empty, but some of the top-floor apartments are rented. From the balcony I can see in to a white-walled, harshly-lit kitchen. Through the venetian blinds I can see a mother and a child, both of them walking distracted little figure-eights around the room, each talking on a mobile phone.