The suit went on a journey to Lach Dennis Village Hall..Cheshire England some 30 miles outside the Manchester Basin, with an invite from an old working buddy from way back when working on the postal service was not so up yer bum thrash and mash it has become today with modern tecno and managers whom have forgotten article 19..or perhaps do not know it exists.
The village hall was an add on to a quaint small church the sort you see on old postcards with curled up edges posted when stamps were still penny blacks it was nice comfortable standing there.
I could feel the suit whispering where are we, why is home town not like this, where is the spray canned paint on the walls, why are there no empty coke cans lay in the gutter, discarded Mcdonald wrappers blowin in the wild hedgerows...in fact why did you wear me to this place of postcard life giving me a glimpse of what life could be.
Drinking ice cold bottled water whilst my favourite bottled beer in the bar fridge Newcastle Brown which i have not seen for so long in public view, unable to pass my lips as Johnny taxi driver was mine for the night....where these days this beer is far from the maddening crowd as the great push by those whom know best force tasteless european beer almost down ones throat i could not answer the suits whispers, simply hugged anyone whom wanted a hug...smiled when the new weds had the first dance thought inwardly all the best for the future had five minutes with my old friend as usual we talked old post office days...a one man band was the singer which felt rather cool...and fitted this tiny village hall atmosphere most of the songs i hummed too he sang Oasis " wonderwall " felt the suit becoming used to being worn and we both agreed why is living in the cities, towns, of this land so tongue twisted but never found the answer in those few hours only the hope that all uban life should be like this.
As the clock ticked a nudge from the suit although nice evening i need to be back in the wardrobe soon was the whisper a touch more hugs some kind patter for thanks for coming keep in touch which he much deserved, the suit and i went out ino the wild night, falling rain, spray on the motorways as thick as sea mist back to reality with no looking back, the heavy sigh from the suit was a relief for both of us, as i pegged it up standing in front of the mirror naked wonder where all the years had gone a wrinkle for each year though perhaps for every month over these 63 years would be more correct.
Love and Peace to all whom have read this far...So Goeth...x