Floyd are playing. Pink Floyd.
Our evening meal is cooking. And I am listening to something that is coming at me from across the decades. The night is slowly fading in through the dusk. And everything is still.
I stopped for a moment and thought back through time. I am sure that this would have been something that Floyd intended. They would have wanted to transport me beyond the seventies, through the eighties, ignoring the nineties…and to here; this moment, this time.
So there I stood.
The twilight offering a conveniently apt backdrop. I looked at our home and recognised how very different it is from the one that housed my childhood. I thought about time and the way it tricks you.
Time is a deceiver. And, hopefully, Time is a healer.
A pupil, today, told me that I looked like Doctor Who. This is a common theme. It’s the David Tenant version which makes me quite pleased. But the universe has not granted me the gift of inter-galactic time travel.
Meanwhile, on planet Earth, Time has come on.
It is Pink Floyd telling me that tea will soon be done.