2 Polish men come into the garden as I’m practicing Bagua arm swings. Should I have stopped swinging? They sit down, opening 2 of their 4 cans of Stella. Sparrows were hopping around, inquisitively and they begin muttering low-key in Polish. More tension in my arms than was good for them. This is what I try to lose when I swing.
and I wondered, are these fellow fighters, sussing out my Whitechapel ghost style or am I just being paranoid?
“It’s St George’s day 2day,” I said to them,
“We know.” That’s all he said
This is the bench they sat on.