The sun was shining, the neighbours were out in their gardens. Jo was lurking in the garden in a contemplative state when she became aware of Ken in the garden next door. The awareness was brought about by the barely there sound of minor body movements and wet fabric. Jo sensed the occasional appearance of hands and over the fence. Ken was hanging out the the household laundry. He hung 3 pairs of ladies black trousers - probably size 12 or 14 - Jo guessed as she peered out of the window later on that morning.
Sunday, 25 March 2007
Friday, 23 March 2007
Thursday, 22 March 2007
Wednesday, 21 March 2007
Jo felt compelled to photograph a picture of Ken's garden waste today. She went straight to her computer in an attempt to transfer the image to her computer. She didn't have much confidence but this time it worked, a good sign, her confidence grew and she had the idea of juxtaposing pictures of Ken's garden waste against her own, sadly it was still in a heap in the garden so she went outside to take a photo. Tripping over the plastic bottles lying in disarray in the back garden she got distracted and ventured to the street to see if there was any chance of getting rid of the plastic bottles that day and noticed that garden waste collection vehicle had already done its' thing she was alarmed to notice that Ken's garden waste bags had also disappeared! Someone had cleared the empty sacks from the pavement. Jo's mind whirled with possible explanations for this hyper efficiency. Could the empty sacks have been loaded onto the truck with the garden waste? They are very green: or, (Jo hoped this was not the case), Ken was home and had already put the sacks back in their place to be refilled for the collection in two weeks time. Assuming this to be the most logical explanation, Jo realised that someone from the house next door may have witnessed her taking pictures. Ouch, she retreats back indoors and stands on the stairs, one of her favoured positions when she feels pensive - good view over the garden wall - she gazes into the space next door and listens for signs of life, none are forthcoming.