Beach Buoy had been up a couple of hours.
He was glad of the company of The Beatles, the pencils and Another Dog.
His brother got this album at Christmas, back in the day.
He would be John Lennon and George Harrison..
Beach Buoy would be Paul McCartney and Ringo.
Knitting needles were drumsticks on a fake leather three piece suite.
Beach Buoy can listen to those familiar songs.
He can recall so much as he takes a walk around his childhood home.
Big wardrobes, the odd light bulb in the bathroom that came off a ship in for repair at the shipyard.
It lasted for years.
The washing machine with a mangle.
The wash house.
The pantry.
The gas and electric cupboards with coats hanging with shelf above for old newspapers.
Iron window frames, single glazing that would freeze inside.
The kitchen sink where Dad would die, having a heart attack, tap running.
Black and white television on rent from Rumblelows.
Colourful memories though.
He hasn't seen his parents for so many many years.
Over forty for Dad, thirty for Mam.
They seemed old be were only young.
BEACH BUOY.
