I never imagined I would make a puppet. But now I had my juggling balls, tweed suit, and bowler hat, a pocket mouse was the next step.
I watched video tutorials about finger puppet creation, and fashioned whiskers from fuse wire. My novice sewing was clumsy and loose, and I have a line of misshapen mouse monsters on my desk. Not too sure what to do with them.
But creation six was decent enough. The eyes were askew, and the paws different lengths. But it was a mouse, and it was a puppet. He tucked into the tweed pocket with the perfection of a washer around a screw.
And there I was. The Butter Mouse.
The pressure in the air released, like I had opened a window on an aeroplane. I thought I would be nervous about going out in costume. But I had to get outside.
I walked the streets of Clifton. A storm was about to break, and the clouds were heavy and sooty. Others on the street whispered and laughed when they saw me, but all were background noise on the way to my final destination.
The view from the Lookout Lectern.
There is a spot called the Lookout Lectern, near a failed attempt to recreate the Roman Baths, and a zig zagging path that runs all the way down to the river. From here the Suspension Bridge lies before you in the most perfect view imaginable. I stood there for an hour before realising someone stood someone next to me. I assumed they were there to make fun of my costume. My uniform.
Instead she said 'Good isn't it? Not exactly what I was going for. But there you go.'
I looked to my right, and for a few seconds there stood a woman in Georgian dress, a hat slanted all the way to the left. It may have been the storm, but above the skies of the bridge sparks of electricity flashed like the lights of another world.
I enjoyed walking back in the rain.
I am there. Other parts of my life are fading away, but I see the conclusion of this project, and what I can achieve.
Time to keep writing. Time to push on.
