The Tea-Junction

Posted by John Category: Bedroom Demos

As our bike rides became more adventurous, we began to require directions. “You will come to a T-junction,” she said.

I had never heard of T-junctions before. I imagined a small shop called “The Tea-Junction” that sold tea and, more crucially, cakes and, even more crucially, soft drinks. A strange little bakery/cafe thing in the middle of nowhere (nowhere being roughly in the region of Old Ross).  

I pictured cuboid cakes with pink icing; probably chocolate eclairs, similar to those provided by Kylemore. I wouldn’t want their tea; I would buy from them a can of Coca Cola from the fridge.

The Tea-Junction sounded like a terrific place to stop off and take a break during a long hot bike ride. We would deserve it, all that sweat and unanticipated saddle pain.

I was genuinely looking forward to visiting the Tea-Junction and was genuinely disappointed to find out what it actually was. 

 

The Tea-Junction 

And as we travel through a dapple shadow channel, we pretend we are wearing yellow     

Climbing and descending the imaginary mountains we have named with our pidgin French

I can’t wait to be holding a cold can of Coca Cola

Coz today we are on our way to the Tea-Junction

But then I see what is cold reality

There’s nothing

Nothing there for me only trees

We carve our initials in a blob of melting bitumen with a sharpish pebble

How is the summer so much warmer, so much brighter, so much longer than the one right now

I can’t wait to be tasting the pink icing of my pastry

Coz today we are on our way to the Tea-Junction

But then I see what is cold reality

There’s nothing

Nothing there for me only trees

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