Workers have been repairing the road outside for the past week. First they bulldozed away the sleeping policemen, then they chipped out the manhole covers like fossils from bedrock. Now, finally, they are laying the tarmac. Yesterday they upgraded one side of the road, today the other, starting their machinery at around six o'clock this morning.
Tonight, I jogged around the block, watching how the new black tarmac gleamed under an almost full moon. If it weren't for so many yellow porch lights, I think I might have been able to conjure a romantic vision from it.
Discovered earlier today, a set of footprints can now be seen on the grey slate steps in front of our house. They are permanent ones, printed in tar. Oddly enough, they are quite neat, rising in confident strides towards our front door before suddenly disappearing.
Monogram Challenge
7 minutes ago
2 comments:
We have patches of tar on the road from repairs which are unstable; in warm weather, it doesn't have to be very hot, they go soft, bubble and blister a bit, footprints and even dog pawprints can be made in them but don't stay.
When we were children a huge vehicle came by for several nights one summer with a kind of skirt under which flames were blasted onto the road surface to burn off the old tarmac. The road, normally busy with traffic, was partially closed, and people came out onto the pavements to watch. It was quite a party!
Thanks for your comment Lucy. I have a vague kind of memory somewhere of one of those tar melting machines. I wonder if they still exist?
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