I think I've mentioned it before: many
years ago a woman dropped dead
immediately in front of me, walking down Oxford
Street. She looked like a
countrywoman up for the day, formal looking, standing
for a photograph
with pink coat and handbag; only she was horizontal.
The
same Summer I came upon this sign:
A male person jumped
in front of a train
last Wednesday evening
around 7.00 pm. Information
please at tube station.
Why
are these still in my head, these two deaths?
I
suppose it’s the tragedy of cities; two colossal events that are nothing
among
the city’s millions.
