repair

August 31, 2007 at 5:20 pm (celebrations, original poetry/prose)

… the Lady stands shivering in her cloak, holding the lantern for the engineer. It is but a few minutes of inspection before he turns a little brass wheel, the sound of gas sighs through a pipe, and the lights round the dark garden spring back into life.

“The last dood that came out put inna new line a’ready. He just diddint turnnit on.”

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