On Walking
From Sundries: Essays on Memory
On Walking
The end of my first, ‘real’ relationship took place at Housesteads, Hadrian’s Wall, ante-tree-chop. My then partner, Mr Wainwright I will call him, walked as a life creed. Never mind the Apostles’ or the Nicene Creed, this man was pure sinew. Every fibre of his form was made for one purpose- to walk. His quadriceps: quartzite, hamstrings: cher…
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