His breakfast made, Blake sat down to eat it at the rickety
table—it was like something from a Van Gogh painting—and found his mind
drifting back to that accursed day and the appalling event that had seen poor
Paul Pubb get put away.
Blake recalled a gusty, chilly afternoon with billowing
clouds, grey and massive, rolling in from the eastern horizon. He was down on Mint Street sitting
with Paul on some dilapidated street furniture: a vandalized bench, as he
remembered it, that gave off a horrid tramp stench. As far as leading a normal
life and partaking in everyday society went, both men were feeling decidedly
out of the frame as the town clock struck three and leaves and litter blew
about their feet. Disaffected is probably the word that best describes their
state. Also, both felt a deep urge to escape themselves through drugs and were
scanning the street in the hope that a dealer would appear to do some business. The minutes
dragged on and, in a loud voice aimed directly at Blake’s left ear, Paul
expounded on a subject most dear to his heart: his unrequited ardour for and
mounting obsession with the promising young actress Pearl Gamble.
Ó Brian Ahern 2011
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