If you bike south down Regent's Street at 10 oclock in the morning the early november sun is like a star on top of the spire of OLEM.
The clouds thick and opaque but so bright with this dazzling star that they are a blinding screen of white before you
if you stare into them you see the billowing mountains of foamy white and the cities and valleys in the sky
they are only just perceptible against this barrage of glorious light
the dark shadowy silhouette of the church's heavy mass against it and the trees - i imagined of the botanics - blurring their branches out into this bright white light.
surrounded in a vision of this thick white light i bike on.
diffused autumn sunlight.
The star on top of OLEM winking as I pass beneath it.
and I beat ugly mullet boy out of the blocks and race off. he catches me at the next set of lights and waits for green in front of me but there's no chance. again i speed away
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