A Day In The Life Of An Everbrown

A huge ball of smoke. A crisp blue sky. The ball of smoke rising, growing. Memories of attack. The ball of smoke now like a raised side parting. I walk across the open space taking photographs. I am on my way into the capital, having finished a short script for someone in the war zone. The artist was toiling away by the wall as I left and her mood was single-minded and self-contained. The sky above me now is like a thick grey blanket, a hellish firmament, and the light darkens as if in preparation for thunder. But I have now learned that the smoke is from a fire that was not created by an attack. It is what you might call an innocent fire. (How we measure our dramas these days has been changed.) I show my photos to the man selling coffee at my station. He has been stuck inside his kiosk unable to get out. I show him the images of rising smoke he has been missing, and the idea of me doing so amuses him so much he refuses to allow me to pay for my coffee. Ten minutes later, as my overland train races into the centre of the capital, I stare at the long and bulbous trail of what now looks like pipesmoke animating the sky. In the center itself I meet with a visitor and tell her of this fire. She is from across the ocean and the friend of a good friend. We compare cultures like car enthusiasts. The light in the centre is rich and autumnal but when we come across a giant evergreen turning a sad brown we don't know what to say. Eventually my visitor friend suggests it is trying to blend in with the others. I say it will turn completely brown and the others will suddenly turn green and say they were only kidding and it will be too late. Later, I pop into the gallery which the artist visited the other day. The gallerist is engaged in conversation with two others, so I refrain from asking why he has not got back. I am glad I say nothing to him in the end. The space is good and the work serious, if a little dated. On the train back home the smoke has disappeared. Inside the flat, the artist has stopped working. And there are pancakes on plates.