Looking at a Citreon DS in Southsea, seeing the same car in a different world
I saw my first Citreon DS when I was living in Malta - my dad was in the Navy - we'd exchanged a grey land for a sun bleached island -
We lived first in an old stone house, opposite a church - I would hear the angelus bell sound every evening - I learned to swim in a warm sea, slipping off the rocks in St Julian's Bay - we ate cheese cake in Tony's Bar - later we moved into a block of Navy flats - a friend of my dad's let me look through his telescope - I could see the mountains and valleys of the yellow moon -
My dad once showed me the oubliette in Fort St Angelo - you could see coats of arms carved into the stone by disgraced knights - the fort was haunted by The Green Lady - I would imagine her, sliding through the walls - I thought that I wouldn't be afraid to see her - she would float up to me, her robes like green wings -
We saw the Citreon DS parked in Dingli Street - my dad said that the car was like a shark - a priest in a soutane got into the car - he drove the car away, downhill towards the seafront - I'd seen pictures of sharks, in my illustrated encyclopedia - sometimes when swimming in St Julian's Bay, I'd been afraid that my legs would be bitten off by a shark -
When I saw this car, a world later, walking down a street in Southsea with Tessa, the memory of that morning came back at once - I shivered when I looked again at that sinister shape - I saw, as though superimposed upon the scene before me, the bright blurred shadows of that particular moment in my own history -
I saw myself, skinny and brown, standing with my dad, looking at the Citreon DS - I was wearing shorts - I had a crewcut - so many things hadn't happened yet - I could remember the heat of the sun upon my neck -
I saw my first Citreon DS when I was living in Malta - my dad was in the Navy - we'd exchanged a grey land for a sun bleached island -
We lived first in an old stone house, opposite a church - I would hear the angelus bell sound every evening - I learned to swim in a warm sea, slipping off the rocks in St Julian's Bay - we ate cheese cake in Tony's Bar - later we moved into a block of Navy flats - a friend of my dad's let me look through his telescope - I could see the mountains and valleys of the yellow moon -
My dad once showed me the oubliette in Fort St Angelo - you could see coats of arms carved into the stone by disgraced knights - the fort was haunted by The Green Lady - I would imagine her, sliding through the walls - I thought that I wouldn't be afraid to see her - she would float up to me, her robes like green wings -
We saw the Citreon DS parked in Dingli Street - my dad said that the car was like a shark - a priest in a soutane got into the car - he drove the car away, downhill towards the seafront - I'd seen pictures of sharks, in my illustrated encyclopedia - sometimes when swimming in St Julian's Bay, I'd been afraid that my legs would be bitten off by a shark -
When I saw this car, a world later, walking down a street in Southsea with Tessa, the memory of that morning came back at once - I shivered when I looked again at that sinister shape - I saw, as though superimposed upon the scene before me, the bright blurred shadows of that particular moment in my own history -
I saw myself, skinny and brown, standing with my dad, looking at the Citreon DS - I was wearing shorts - I had a crewcut - so many things hadn't happened yet - I could remember the heat of the sun upon my neck -
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