Where is the sun on the sunny side of the street?
A woman in a long figure hugging dress with shoulder straps. The fabric is a black and grey geometric print. A silver fringed scarf is hanging lazily across both of her elbows as her arms hang in space as if holding an invisible tray of drinks. Her shoulder length dark hair is brushed backwards, strands held and clipped at the back of her head. Her jewellery is gold and dangly. Her shoes are black stilettos.
Another woman with a flared purple top and black leggings, black ankle boots and too much make up. She has a black handbag that she is continually looking into. It doesn’t really go with the outfit. She’s probably headed out to do a grocery shop.
A third woman has a silver suit dress on with a neat matching jacket. She has those shiny tights on and grey stilettos. Her hair is dark and cheer leader style. The necklace and earrings are costume silver. Potential to be haughty and likely to be huffy.
A forth woman in a calf length brown straight skirt, beige top and light brown cardigan with a tie belt. Her shoes are brown with heels and peep toes. Her jewellery is a fussy, peasant style. Mousy hair overdone.
A fifth woman with a peculiar gold floaty kind of top, about the length of a mini dress, she also has black leggings and ballet pumps. Her bag is big and appears to contain everything she has ever owned in her life. Hair back in a clip.
A middle aged man, hair turning slowly from ginger to silver. Jeans a little large due to weight loss and an unironed checked shirt in a brown and black tartan. Dirty white Dunlop tennis shoes on his feet. A chunky sports watch on his wrist.
Younger slack jawed man, football top, grey baggy training pants, hair too short. Common in a Victorian way.
A black Labrador dog with a jumping fixation, too excited to hear or obey any human instruction. Silver saliva at the corners of the mouth and a tongue that refuses to stay in the right place for any length of time. A good natured look hangs back in his eyes.
A bored policeman rolls his eyes and listens to the sparkle of his pocket radio. A stream of incoherent messages, none of which is for him. He’s tempted to roll back on his heels, feet apart like a cartoon copper but he doesn’t do. He feels that at 5’ 7” he is just a little too short for this job.
In a line of stationary traffic man sits in his car scratching his nose and searching up and down the radio channels for a song he likes or an interesting news bulletin. He then suddenly realises he cant remember how he got here from the last set of traffic lights.
A woman in the car behind looks at her face in the rear view mirror. She really wants to touch up her mascara but isn’t sure how long this line of traffic will remain still. Then she wonders if it’s an offence to apply make up in a car caught up in thick traffic. Then her mobile phone rings.
A cyclist does juggling type stunts, staying upright while threading through the traffic. He has a flashing light on his helmet and it’s starting to rain.
A woman sits down carefully on a café chair, she tucks her hand under her bottom, pulls her skirt down over her knees and then pats it, as if it was an obedient pet of some sort. Half of the coffee in her cup has ended up in her saucer.
In the queue of traffic a guy in a silver Cougar inches along the street, the engine burbling. The bollards, excessive street furniture and pedestrians combine and conspire to annoy him. He doesn’t really see anything and nobody really sees him.