Ted always takes ingenious shortcuts, away from main roads and often down some street that is little more than a lane or through some mews with the cars parked on either side leaving little room for a passage. Cynthia is always telling him that his shortcuts are, in fact, longcuts. The two women in the back are talking animatedly. Ted is too absorbed in finding his route and I am too tired to talk. I stare at the road glistening from a recent shower. Suddenly I think, with an extravagant leap of hope: Is this really happening? On such a journey it should be only the road, winding through the tunnel of my little eye, that I am seeing. But now I can see the pavements on either side and the people, often with open umbrellas, hurrying along them. Perhaps I have imagined it? I say nothing to the others. But I remain excitedly buoyed up by a secret hope. Two days later I call to see Dr Ireland about the possible side effects of the statin that I must now take.
What do You think about With My Little Eye (2011)?
