The Narrative Never Stops Arcing...

 

Mackerel sky tonight, hopefully heralding some good weather for the weekend: the forecast is for a warm spell, so fingers crossed. My car is now fully serviced, my having ignored it for the last nine months - I've never been easy on cars, and don't dote on them, like some people - so, with a bit of luck and a following wind, it will last until the finance is settled next year, and we can trade it in for another vehicle. Whilst I was waiting on the completion of the work on the car, I spent some time in the large second-hand emporium in town: Relics. I managed to pick up three books of interest: 'Perfidious Man' by Will Self and David Gamble, with some stunning photographs by the latter; 'A Place in the Mind' by R. Gerallt Jones, about growing up in Pen Lleyn; and 'Exit West', a novel by Mohsin Hamid. The latter was simply signed on the flyleaf: 'Lesley'. On flipping through the pages, I found a bookmark, which was a greetings' postcard which had been used as a to-do list by the eponymous signee. Turned out the signee was the late Lesley Prendergast, herself the widow of the - very - late Peter Prendergast; the well-known painter and friend of ours from the glory years of the Association of Artists & Designers in Wales, and of course, The Gerlan Bohemia of the 1980s. She made it to page 143. Synchronicity such as this always sends a bit of a shiver down my spine...