Friday, 11 February 2011

I see people.

Sometimes I see people I know I shouldn't. Taylor Swift was visiting a house on a street near mine. A dark-skinned Ramona Flowers passed me in town, her pink hair vibrant against a black hoodie, a blue canvas bag over one shoulder, and Scott Pilgrim himself cycled past me only a few weeks ago, a striped beanie covering his curls. I've seen a blue-haired Singer on the streets of Oxford City, and one of the Inelesi in a back alley, his lumbering gait and translucent skin impossible to disguise. A slim, long haired Tolkien elf was in front of me in a super market queue. Little Red Riding Hood as a child has skipped past, holding onto an elderly woman's hand. Sometimes I even can see the Ford Prefects of this world. A slightly too intense gaze, or a reaction to normality that is unexpected, and suddenly... I can see it. And I know I shouldn't be able to.

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