I walked Rochester’s Riverside Walk between Doust Way and Cory’s Creek. Less than a mile long it was closed down shortly after its initial opening when all the railings were nicked overnight.
Eventually it will be engulfed in new housing but now it wears the air of indecision.
Looking across Limehouse reach I watch oystercatchers mob a crow above a barge that has lost the fight against entropy and is blurring the space between identity and landscape. Shedding off the pain of individualism and merging with Medway.
A wild eyed man walks past talking to himself. These days the adroit schitzophrenic just needs to get equipped with a Bluetooth headset and lose himself among a thousand estate agents with gelled hair and fat purple ties.
Perhaps it’s better to be feared than to be despised.