Sand of Time

Sand of Time I was on my way to the doss house near the railway station, it was quarter to eight -had to be in by eight or lose my bed-, when I saw her in the restaurant talking to her brother, they shared a bottle of wine. My god, she was as beautiful as ever. And since it was dark outside I reckoned she didn’t see me, her brother looked out; perhaps he recognized me because he bent towards her and whispered something, but before she could look up I had disappeared into shadows. It was now ten to eight I ran to the doss house run by The Salvation Army. I could only have a shower once a week and had been wearing the same suit for a long time. It was a grey worn suit, but it gave me a sense that I had some dignity left. However deep a person falls, he can get up again and in time buy a new suit. This evening remembering my time of wretchedness, and it struck me I can no longer remember her face.