THE RIGHT NUMBER

I went to collect the photos I’d had printed to A3 at Sprinters on Stokes Croft.
‘Been skulking around Stokes Croft have you?’ she said as she handed me the plastic self-seal bag had the thirteen pictures in.
‘Well, yes,’ I said.
‘There’s just one that didn’t come out too well,’ she said. ‘This one.’
‘Oh, shame...but I know why that is.’
‘You showing them somewhere?’
‘Easton Art Trail,’ I said being sure to emphasise the capital letters. ‘Then I thought I might see if any of the local cafes were interested.’
‘We had someone brought some stuff in about closing Heathrow airport down or something like that. I’m not really sure. but they were taking them to Glastonbury this weekend, for a display,’ she said, ‘something environmental.’
‘Maybe about stopping terminal five being built,’ I said, ‘if that’s the right number.’