I got off the tube and all of the walkways were drifting around, because they were suspended from the ceiling by rusty chains. I was the only person who had to lie down and crawl to the exit.
I was in such a hurry to leave, I left by the wrong exit, which was the lobby of a posh hotel. To leave I had to run a gauntlet of greasy English breakfast-style food that was being kept warm, and was unappetising.
Once outside, I realised I’d left my friends in another city as I stubbornly wanted to see this one, even though it was pretty run down. It was a small Indian town, it was raining, and there was a fish stall allowing you to sponsor parts of the fish that were labelled with different prices. Some people had apparently already sponsored parts of it for as much as £200.
Realising I was carrying a bag of cement in a large woman’s handbag slung over my shoulder, I had to consolidate that with my backpack to avoid looking feminine.
I found my way to a hardware store, a chain of which I’d previously visited in my own country. It was mostly second hand junk. I was also carrying a camera on a piece of shower flex, and it had a light on the other end.
Browsing around the store, I found a similar item being demonstrated by a woman, and there was a crowd gathering around the demo, watching a screen displaying what the camera saw. I pushed to the front of the crowd and put my eye against the lens, then put my camera’s lens against hers. To try to entertain the crowd, I turned the light on and shone it into the demo lens. I thanked her, because I’d finally found a use for the junk I’d bought.
Answers on a postcard, I suppose.
