Jul 02 2019

On the Motorway part 4 by Corin Trivass

Bored  anonymous cashire, encased  in glass , make-up peeling,
stiff hair falling over eyes, which  dart from tray to hand to register.
Red gash in peeking face speaks.  Hurry passed to vacant table and
ease tired, aching body onto  slashed seat.
Look around and notice how garish  the friendly place really is with
its contrasting decor. Violent and  deafening children run, scream and shout stuff.
Mothers talk,call drink,smoke, and  put a shilling into the mouth of the
hungry fat Juke Box. Machinery  starts to move and an old battered
record drops snugly into place.  Leave coffee liquid half finished and
return refreshed to rejoin the  race

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