Old News

When my dad asked me to nip out to get some milk for him this morning, I took George with me to the local shops, where the only one open was the newsagent.

It always feels a bit strange going in there. When I was a kid, I used to be a paper-boy for them - and while the woman who runs it now (the daughter of the owners then) sort of half-recognises me, we don't really have much to say to each other.

There are four shops in this block, and they once all had the same Vitrolite signs: BUTCHER, BAKER and GROCER. At one point, it must have seemed like everything anyone could possibly need. Now, I think the NEWSAGENT sign is the only one left.