Monday, 25 November 2013

The Bingo Hall

The windows in metal frames spread yellow light like butter to gather around the curtain hems. Greenish shadows on the pavement and a tree rising blackly. The low hall, now black, now white...

White light from the rafters. Mellow wood on the floor. Tables, chairs all arranged for colours and odours made by rain-coats, scarves, creations of hair thanks to the pink and pale green plastic rollers.

The man at the mike wears a claret dickie-bow and Charlie Chaplin suit. The brown and red booklets with their solid numbers. Felt pens for the circling. The silent film star compère calls the numbers and the game begins.

For once, everything making a strange sense.
The randomness of numbers, the flickering of light.

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