Friday, 2 November 2012

The Collectors

I didn't know where we were. We'd left the car in a sandy enclosure and Rod, as ever, led the way. It was getting dark. The usual pretext for these excursions was to collect information. Rod could read the landscape like a book. The rare passages in dusty volumes where no-one else thought to go. This was Rod's blue period. We got lost in the dark. But Rod never lost control. He navigated us through the dusk. I don't remember anything we said but suddenly we were cruelly exposed. A security light flooded our mission. We were in the yard of a grand house and dogs were barking. We were on private land: the wrong side of the tracks but we got back to the car, clues safely gathered in camera film and notebooks without any confrontation. Another car had joined our own. We got into Rod's car without speaking. Got away from there as fast as we could. Holding our breaths until we were back on the road, legitimate citizens again.

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