Traffic sounds muffled as if further away. ‘Coo coo coo’ must be a dove as a pigeon’s song has five syllables, doesn’t it?
Sound of sawing from behind the grey corrugated sheet.
A faint burnt toasted smell drifts in the breeze.
Glimpse of blue sky through tangled barbed wire.
Footsteps in the distance – no owner.
How on earth does the buddleia manage to grow in that crevice and will it eventually split the wall? Where do the roots go?
A red and white ‘pedestrians’ arrow points you into the corner – no way through.
Smell of oil.
Plane leaves flickering on the tarmac. From behind the blue corrugated façade the sun casts shadows of the bare branches. Why is every thing corrugated? And why is the CCTV notice in yellow? Did they know the wall would be blue?
An alarm sounds from beyond.
A car engine revs so there must be someone near.
Faded silver graffiti on the green riveted door harmonises with the galvanised iron sheets.
Is that screaming or children playing?
Another car door bangs.
The pulley seems to have detached itself from the bar. Below it, shreds of plastic cling desperately to more barbed wire.
Why would they want to keep people in rather than out?
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