It was two tradesmen striding past my window, young and rugged up in t-shirts and shorts against the cold and talking to each other.
‘She said, ‘What do you want then?’, and I said, ‘a Moderna or two will do’. But she didn’t ring me back.’
The other tradesmen said, ‘Yeah.’
Then they passed the window and were gone.
A lady bent to read a title in the window out loud to her friend. The friend said, ‘Looks expensive. I’m not getting it.’
And then two motorcyclists, parked just outside the door, returned to their bikes. They were in no hurry. Holding helmets and thinking it over and pleased with the bakery they’d just been to.
‘Where do you want to go?’
‘No, no, you pick.’
‘Oh dear. Well. I think we’ll give Macclesfield a go. What do you think?’
‘Well. Right oh then. After you.’
It took a while to get set, get steady, get the gloves on and then go. But they did; two friends riding off slowly in the cold wind together.
A lady bought two books for a granddaughter, and then she too, rode away on a motorbike. She’d been dressed in all red leather with magnificent boots and a copy of Where The Crawdads Sing just purchased.