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Out on Lewisham High Street, a grubby man passes me and grins, gold teeth winking.
'Inchoo lovely!' He says, as he wanders off.
On the way back an old guy with a can of Tennants smiles at me. 'Tired,eh?' He says, soft pleasant voice.
Everyone seems so poor, dirty, old. But their faces aren't leering or creepy. They're OK really, ordinary.
Sunny cold morning, wet May.
Normal may not be round the corner. But it's not far away either.
'Inchoo lovely!' He says, as he wanders off.
On the way back an old guy with a can of Tennants smiles at me. 'Tired,eh?' He says, soft pleasant voice.
Everyone seems so poor, dirty, old. But their faces aren't leering or creepy. They're OK really, ordinary.
Sunny cold morning, wet May.
Normal may not be round the corner. But it's not far away either.
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