Do good

And so you get back into Edinburgh. You take a nap on South Clerk Street as the readiness of the solstice takes place on the other side of your window before eventually you get up to leave. A sauna lets you go of the tension built up over the time away. It’s only been a few days and it’s not been hard but you appreciate being back.

You go to meet a girl you love who is waiting on the corner of Leven Street and Gillespie Place. You prepare to feast on food prepared through hundreds of years of a once closed culture and get told your table is not ready yet. So you order and get a drink next door.

It’s busy at the Blackbird and you find a seat together on steps as you share a cigarette and return to the restaurant and finish your sushi, buddha bowl and teriyaki in twenty minutes. You inhale each other as much as the food and you are where you should be.

You see her on to the number 16 bus, trading phones because yours is nearly dead and you’re trying to find friends. You hear from one but you might not meet up tonight so you walk for a bit on the meadows and you talk to a girl who needs a paper, well two and you think you have some in your pocket so you try to help her out but you can’t find them so you go to the garage to pick up a new pack. She’s sleeping rough for the first time so she’s scared. She’s in as safe a part of town as there could be but what consolation is that? She’s with her partner on the steps of the church and the halogen lights come down but it’s a stretch to call them heavenly.

You’re inside and you buy your papers, one pack short, one back long, both silver. You try and find something for them because they’re hungry but what can you get from the 24 hour garage that will be of any substance? You pick up two Pot Noodles, original curry flavoured, the only vegetarian option and you pick up two bottles of water with a fruit infusion because they might be thirsty but they’re having a joint so they might appreciate the flavour as they parch their mouths. You bring it over and Jamie and Ashley are appreciative and Jamie is embarrassed. You tell him not to be because why would you be? It’s a tough enough time to go through this so you say there is no need for self deprecation. They offer you a bit of grass, just perfect for one smoke and you go on your way. Ringing in your ears is Jamie as he says someone will do good for you as you did good for them. That’s not why you do it and you’re about to be about to help folk out.

But as you are walking, your phone rings and your friends are at a party. A party for filmmakers beginning the Edinburgh Film festival and they tell you to come along. They have free booze.

It’s just ten minutes away so you walk over, find the building and wonder if you should put on a personality to get in. You pick the only male name you know of anyone in film and as soon as you walk round the corner you see that man. He tells you you shouldn’t have doubted trying a woman’s name and so in that moment you become Lizzie, Princess Lizzie to those that don’t know.

You walk in with no security but your friends are there and all they have left is whisky and lemonade. You pour a glass, full to the pint and you begin to talk. From there you are dancing with two French girls to Diana Ross and as you’re coming up you think of Jamie’s words again. You take the card of a filmmaker who has finished work on an independence film and needs people to watch over it.

You step outside to find food and find a group of you to get it. The sit around is a play around and you get a taxi home from the Forest from there.

You’re back in Edinburgh on the longest day with the smallest things taking you here.

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