Lunch, unpacked
More experimental stream of consciousness...
the seagull watches weighing-up its options and marks the arc made by the chip on its journey from greasy paper to my mouth it could choose to strike at any moment my arm against this sun-baked wall the sea breeze rustles the paper the bird’s feathers and it shifts a little to the left a little closer did i ever know they were so large i want to check where chris is if he’s on his way back with the coffees the trace of him left beside me is the crumpled flotsam of his lunch which the bird has eyed too perhaps assuming i cannot guard two things at once we both watch and wait knowing something will happen because something has to though not with this gull who we both know will win in the end but with chris because of his question which had been a while coming brewing courage he said yet it landed in a rush descending from somewhere unseen just like the gull to suddenly be square before me and i wonder if he wants my answer when he returns surely not an answer crafted from thin air given i must have been expecting it perhaps his getting coffee is an excuse to give me time a ridiculous notion in itself or to bestow the same on himself to regather or calm down or whatever else he needs to do pee probably yet here i am challenged by this steely-eyed bird who waits for me to make just one false move trapping me against this wall cradling the remains of lunch unable to avoid its eye or think of anything else perhaps i should just give in and so sacrificing myself i place what’s left of mine next to chris’s push the wrapper away to the right disowning the last few chips then shifting to the left double the distance make the invitation come on then the gull shuffles a little eyes the prize suspiciously as if a trap has been laid but i need it to be gone to have this over with so that i can focus and then when i edge left again everything happens in an instant the flurry of wings makes me jump the sound its size and for a moment i could reach out brush its feathers with my hand make a connection confirm permission and then it is away and as i follow the beginning of its flight i catch sight of chris heading back the slightly shy wave of his hand a look that is far from predatory i know he will ask about the bird the chips whether i am untroubled and i will say yes shift slightly left again contemplate another decision