The English ManHe was there again today. He was pale, and ordered a latté with an English accent.The English Man by Squelchina
He stood out. He wore tawny hair, and Doctor Martins.
Everyday, everyday he sat down in a corner, with an empty seat next to him. Always, he never looks around. He looks to the empty seat, will cock his head to one side, and then sniff at the latté, before sipping. Every time his head inclined, different shades of brown hair pass over each other.
Everyday he walks in his hair starts getting lighter.
It's visible when he's been to the beach. He comes in with pink skin, windswept hair, and no belt. He doesn't wear a belt on the days he goes to the beach.
He still wears his Doc Martins though.
I admire that in an English Man.
Come to the great pit of sand, and moody weather, and every day wear Doc Martins, the same ones. The ones that have the Union Jack on them, and the way he looks at that empty chair.
Maybe I'll sit there one day. I'll see if he sits opposite me, and inclines his head to me, or if he'll