The Beckasin road. A road between real life and everything else that is not said be normal. It begins at the corner of a park and ends at the establishment of a retirement home. It sounds as if life on Beckasin road is like a flower duet from Lakme. As if the dogs are smiling at you while you walk past them. As if the chestnut trees raises their arms over your head. You need to walk the dogs or make trolls of the chestnuts to pay attention to anything else.
I came about to walk Polo and some time later I also took my forefinger and stroke the hair of a troll. I am not sure of Polo being a real poodle nor have I questioned me spending so much time with a gaffer. However, I have had a different taste on my tongue since that first day I met Elfvie and Polo. A taste of metal. I will continue to visit Beckasin road as long as I can find my way there.
