I saw a man's brown lace-up Clarks shoe on the pavement outside the house with the ring of miniature standing stones on the lawn. The other of the pair was twenty yards down the road at the bus stop where the chubby goth boy was being chased by a wasp.
I parked outside Euphoria Fitness. A man and a woman in boxing gloves were sparring in the car-park. He was holding up his hand and she was hitting it. He was shouting "Hit it! Hit it!" at her. I crossed the road to the garage where, coincidentally the mechanic was listening to a song called Euphoria, Take my Hand on the radio whilst working on an old Vauxhall Corsa.
Someone has written Lynard Skynard and The Who in the dirt on my van.
The skip lorries were tailing back down the road from the tip. An elderly man in salwar kameez had climbed into the back of one of them and was raiding it for timber.
Two men were playing pool In the communal room at the flats. One of them was unable to take his preferred shot because his cueing action was obstructed by the still fully decorated Christmas Tree in the corner.
I parked up next to a sign that said BEWARE CHILDREN. I could hear a teacher in the school yard opposite shouting "Quickly Shakira, I'm waiting!"
I called round at a friends house and I noticed his neighbour has put up a wobbly, hand painted sign on his gate that says "If you are preaching or selling do not enter coz the wife bites."