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In the afternoon we walk through Clifton to the suspension bridge and watch three people flirt with an iPad and two tripods.  The blue and white sky blinks its porcelain eyes at us, whilst yours stare down on the rooftops.

My thoughts bounce from one structure to the next.  I watch the houses and envy the humbug balcony, dreaming of one day owning something as unfathomable as property.  The iron balconies add wedding cake adornments to the sandstone buildings and even the nettles and overgrown bushes hang suspended in the heavy summer air.  The bridge must be full of traffic, but being even slightly downhill muffles the noise until it becomes an hypnotic hum.

To assuage your guilt at loudly bemoaning the girl with her iPad, you get your own out and I keep giggling, scanning through Google maps in search of Jeff Koons’s Puppy outside the Guggenheim.

Somewhere in the world, other people exist and eventually they emerge, heralded by the arrival of a polka dot dog.  Property, dogs, a husband or wife, what would it be like to add these to the list of ‘things I have’?

Right now what I have is this singular moment, one afternoon playing with the skin around your fingernails and burying my head into this great cosy shoulder.  A brief glimpse of silence and your warmth in front of this great steel structure.

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