Posts Tagged ‘beret’

It’s not the conversation we’re having that keeps us talking, rather it’s the place it takes us to. Which is why losing my hat again feels like losing a sense of reality. How easy I seem to mislay items of clothing. I return to the café and you have my beret hanging from a lampshade. You have red hair, a quiff and ask me if I was cold. I tell you I don’t know, but then touch my icy ears, self-conscious. I breathe the air of things done differently, of how it might be to live without a covered head.


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We’re not sure this counts because I actually need to speak to strangers in meetings, but it’s my encounter for the day so I will tell about it. You wear a beret and say it’s because you are playing a part. You agree with most things, then afterwards you disagree. You have more opinions that I imagine you keep to yourself. Maybe we’re all too young to know better. I wait for your response to each point, I want to be in your team. We live the noble life, making changes, feeling the sheer power of routine and choosing hats.

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