‘Edenbray in Exile’
A Retrospective Anthology of Poetry, Articles and Essays
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its a bailey … using no traditional punctuation …
it is hard to describe the warmth and security two pals can derive from a walk into town to buy a shiny spiral exercise book and a new papermate biro with which to record such important details as 1st round european cup results between aarhus and gornik zarbze or top of the table league action between sheffield wednesday and newcastle united but of such things were happy memories formed from sunday afternoon kneeling sorties on my friend steves lounge room carpet playing subbuteo ◉ such events formed clean and safe recreation for two lads who wrestled with the early pressures of teenage adolescence and provided a neutral territory for both to resort to as external situation and internal emotions underwent serious transformation ◉ here was a love affair where both knew the rules and even the names taken and sending offs of our relationship which could be recorded in blue and white and received due recompense by dipping into a cardboard punishment box for a paper slip suggesting a two match ban or perhaps worse ◉ the years turned slowly and even as the dreams of day switched from the lifting of our plastic subbuteo trophies to the night dreams of erotic youth the draw of our friendship was imbedded in an intellectual and comic purity where serious issues ideas or views were confined to discussing the re-election of old and new teams to our football fantasy league ◉ more often than not these details were discussed under the vivid brightness of the stamford bridge floodlights during the half-time interval ◉ our afternoons and evenings out watching chelsea qpr palace portsmouth and even millwall became fond and happy hours of interspersed comic lunacy which often wetted the corners of our eyes and at times the underpants while we exchanged only brief diary like recollections of what we were actually doing who we were seeing where we were going or such like ◉ both of us arrived in our twenties it seems to me searching for the nirvana of a responsibility free environment where matters could be resolved by as little thought as possible ◉ it was the innate sense of escapism which ran as a core through our very happy friendship which no doubt reacted against us as we both led by differing conclusions wrestled with the thornier issues of life ◉ tolerance was for the time being set aside for a brief period and our innermost selves emerged briefly frightened and not a little ashamed ◉ we did after all know each other much better than we had admitted or revealed ◉ the realisation caused our one and only argument and the idyllic dream was forever shattered ◉ there really were after all such things as pain hurt envy and strife of life and we were tainted also ◉ the magic of our true friendship sparked once more after dust had settled on the green base of our gentlemans game and after repairing the plastic goal posts and redecorating the figures for one day once more the blue biro wrote the good news that all was well ◉ the two mates had entered extra time and much like the rare raptor from which the game subbuteo takes its name they had begun to fly
its a bailey … using no traditional punctuation
#Authors Note : Another childhood memoir presented using no traditional punctuation under the catchy heading – ‘Its a bailey’ – people seem to be liking these – i hope you do!