Meat wrench

"Christ I recognise today."

Marvin spat out an olive stone and wrapped his hood tighter about his neck.

"I remember this day seven years ago, no, six."

Across the park a homeless man was wrestling with a bin. Something at the bottom was evading his short arms which were also hampered by several layers of jumper. At the man's feet a dog took the opportunity to get it's head down for a bit.

"I mean, look at him. That's a hell of a face. That's a face against which gallions could wreck. It's the visage of epics. Every crag a story."

"Every crag is another year waiting for pneumonia Marv. It's a face that says: I never wanted this face"

"Well he should want that face. It's unique, special, a monument to a life that's his alone. When I see most people, I recognise them like I recognise today. I see a drop of the shoulders from a girl I worked with or a scowl crossed with a grimace from a a guy at university. When I dream people merge, you know, including me sometimes. It's so easy, seemless. See that lady over there? With the pram. That's my mum. Don't believe me? You've met my mum. Watch how she shakes her arms down so that the bangles drop to her wrists. That's my mum, without question. No, that guy's lucky. That's guy's unique."