Wednesday, March 3, 2010

62. From the sidelines


People watching engages every synapse, just as it absorbs every sense. Perched on the edge of a Rees folly (Lloyd not Nathan) in the midst of the early afternoon busyness of Martin Place, at first glance he appears forlorn. Perhaps it is the tumble of the water at his rear, or the trundle of the buses down Castlereagh, more likely just the pensive stance so unexpected of such a virile young man.

Spread out before him is the glory of early twentieth century Sydney, grown to maturity over the space of two world wars that pockmarked other, more distant lands. His eyes target the younger clientele of The Strand Hatters with their jaunty straw Akubras – whether it be a Hampton, a Bogart or a Jive – as they promenade with a spring in their step between the imposing sandstone and granite monuments to the financial acumen of wheeler-dealers long since departed.

6 comments:

diane said...

I like this one. You getting frisky? All these young viriles....

Julie said...

Hah! Purely photographic, m'dear ...

Joan Elizabeth said...

Something is bothering me in this piece ... perhaps it is the use of the 'fly on the wall' perspective ... or maybe it's too short for me get its pace.

Love the Rees folly line.

Julie said...

Yep, what is missing is what he is looking at. We don't see his view, when that is all I yabber on about.

Joan Elizabeth said...

I woke up thinking about this story this morning ... geez ... my morning thought was that I think the narrator's thoughts are intruding.

Oh yeh ... I was also thinking about the photograph ... I like it a lot.

Gotta start work now, the rest of the blogs have to wait until tonight.

Julie said...

Yes, I have to dash, too. Big day in at the Mitchell today.

I see what you mean about the narrator. I have all these "facts" that I want to get across in the story and I simply stick them in there instead of somehow showing them more gradually.