Unrequited love
…And that nothing much would have been me…
Llandaff is one of those sleepy suburbs you can find in any city of any size. Pebble dashed nineteen-thirty something detached houses, owned by middle class executives, lawyers and senior bank personnel line the avenues and cul de sacs, testifying simultaneously to both the conservatism and wealth of the residents.
Sunday in Llandaff is church, lunch, wash the car and mow the lawn, while housewives busy themselves with being beautiful and peripheral. Monday is suit, briefcase, peck on the cheek and off to do some hard-nosed business. Tuesday is the day after Monday, but it’s just the same. There’s something eternal about places like Llandaff, nothing changes and nothing ruffles the cushioned surface of life in suburbia… nothing much anyway. And that nothing much would have been me.
