Alien

Long seconds after he had gone the odour of urine left behind by the Tamil loner hung in the air. The monitoring and judging duration occurred automatically, without thinking. Fully three seconds; perhaps three point something by the contemporary digital sporting clocks. The last week the chap had been given something on three occasions, a note in one case. On this last the exchange of greeting seemed less unsatisfactory. Pink biz shirt was unusual; close at elbow it had not been taken properly. Memory of those early days at school when one was thrust into the hostile world of the neighbourhood outside our perimeter walls continued to stick surprisingly fast.