Outside chance

I was cycling home from choir practice this evening, looking at light to see whether I could turn any of it into a picture, when a dark shape low to the pavement caught my eye. Something made me slow and look again and it was my daughter looking for something she’d dropped. Neither of us were near our different homes. We chatted and were just setting off in our different directions when I heard my name called. A friend I haven’t seen for ages. Oxford is a village. With many, many bars.