encounters 9

We stomp through the park, my dog-companion and I, in several layers plus two coats, hat, gloves, scarf.... me that is, not the dog, obviously. Her scruffy fur-coat is in need of a bath and a good groom, but does the job she says.

We meet him swinging along, cigarette in hand, wearing trainers, jeans and a black leather waistcoat, sleeveless and unzipped over a bare chest...

Colder today I say, somewhat foolishly. He doesn't feel cold he replies, somewhat needlessly...

What is his secret? i ask myself, as we move on with our lives - are the tattoos adorning his body thermal?