Hurriedly, we exited the automatic doors and into happy yellow- through the green, into the grey, through city streets and sirens- buses, bikes and traffic lights- curious, old brown shops of trinkets, tat, kittens, coffee- signposts, pubs, clubs and castles- as the town clock's hands spun round and round, reeling in zig zags through the throng, we ate on the hoof as the shadows stretched and forced us on, and we found ourselves
wandering, down cobbled, leafy avenues, and it was still there in the sky,
still burning, but we knew in our hearts he was a sun borne of sympathy,
something wasn't right
,
we
knew the plans, our
expectations, the frantic photos, the aches and pains, the dead beat feet were all in vain
as we returned to a room of relaxing,
smug looking faces, we realised our race was run.
We had lost.
But more than that.
We'd lost sight of the prize.
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