Some kind of shadow is left here on the page. Some object which sat here for a while left it. Like the ‘shadow’ when we speak metaphorically of some incident in the past. The shadow is still there changing colours to a more neutral version of themselves like shadows do. Not to black or grey as we thought before we looked and saw. But these things are too far away sometimes even to remember what they were. Or they come back neutral like a photograph. A sudden flash of a bored goalie at the end of the hockey field. Her team is doing too well, keeping the ball down the other end of the field, scoring goal after goal. Suddenly they’re all up there menacing each others’ shins with hockey sticks and before she knows it they’ve got the ball through. Another failed performance.

– Okay from now on you’re left wing. Just fly down the field like the wind. And try catching the ball for a change.

– I think I’ll change back to athletics where you can just keep on running.