The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Eggs & Bacon



I had been returning from the Royal and needless to say the weather for February was as expected; it was grey and drizzly.



I had avoided the revolving door, following the two female visitors out, noting with a wry smile, that they were dressed for the weather.



Then I'd turned left and passed a young woman in hospital gown and flowery white terry-towel robe and pink mules, smoking as she stood gassing away to her male visitor, who was dressed for the weather, like myself.



I had passed the ambulance bay to my right, where several crew men sat idle – as they awaited their next job.



Then as the weather began to gnaw at my joints I'd decided to find a whiskey-shop, the nearest being within sight.



Within less than ten minutes I'd learned that they didn't do a suitable malt for me; but they stocked J.D. And, that'd been okay, for me.



Then, feeling suitably warmed and refreshed, I'd continued my walk into town, where I'd get a train 'over the river' and homeward.



I'd walked down London Road and stopped, to light a smoke, at the corner of the shops overlooking where they hold the 'old market' several days a week, deserted now, 'cept for the monument of the fellow on the horse, turning green; the commuters going home and, the homeless.



Across the road to my right was the old T.J.Hughes building, an imposing red brick building, half-office block and half-schloss, with a walkway attached midway up, that had given customers access at one time, to the adjacent building.



Two shops in to my left was a cafe with one customer in it, a fellow in an olive-green raincoat, nursing a half-cup of coffee, at least as long as it took me to enjoy my smoke.



So, knowing roughly how much was in my black wallet with the Batman logo embedded into the front, that sat in the top left pocket of my inner jacket – I'd pushed the door open.



Having an idea in mind, I'd walked into the cafe, passing tables to my left and right, noting the menu over the counter top as I did so.



I'd approached the fellow, on my right, shoulders hunched, as he shielded his coffee-cup.



“'scuse me,” I'd interjected, “but, can you eat alright?”



At my question, the fellow had looked at me with tired eyes, set in a life-worn face. It was quite evident that he'd viewed me with obvious distrust.



“I'm alright,” he'd muttered, staring into his cod coffee.



Then, in a quiet tone of voice I'd continued: “I'd asked if you can eat alright for a reason, I can't...”



I'd got his attention and, the fellow had listened to me, as I'd got my wallet out.



“I'd appreciate it if you'd get yourself a breakfast...” I'd told him, offering him enough to cover an 'all-day breakfast': “And, enjoy it, for me...”



The fellow had seemed no longer alarmed by the temerity of my unwarranted approach and, he'd accepted the proffered money, to which I'd said, “Thank you.”



Then I'd left the cafe, to continue my walk to Lime Street and my train home, where I'd prepared a bowl of soup to eat. I did hope that the fellow in the cafe would enjoy his eggs and bacon...