Page 60 - Exile-ebook

60 AN EXILE OF THE MIND STANDING IN FOR THE BEATLES 61

‘Half G’s’ bought from the local pub.
I woke up one morning squinting
up at the sun peeping out from fluffy
white clouds floating across a bright
blue sky. Peering over the sides
of my coffin, flowers nodded and
smiled at me from someone’s front
garden. A telephone sat on my chest
ripped from the house should I wish
to order breakfast with a hair of the
dog.
Well dressed at a well-behaved party. Red-whiskered Tom also revised

misspelt words at the proofreaders’
eyebrows, was later to make her desk. He was later immortalized in
mark across the ‘ditch’. the quirky documentary: Tom Who?
Working nights as a proofreader The Enigma of Tom Kreisler. Tom
on the Christchurch Press from 6pm to convinced me to visit Mexico and
2am, I cycled bleary-eyed to lectures. discover Diego Rivera’s vibrant mu-
A chilled wind from the Antarctic rals jumping off walls to dazzle the
frosted my fingers to the senses and also Juan O’Gorman’s
handlebars through artwork which covered
the wooded acres of the entire building of
Hagley Park. And the Central Library
then to nod off in class, at the National Au-
poked awake by a prodding paint tonomous University. A splash of
brush from a fellow student. passionate colour Tom said, as an
Saturday nights were free with antidote for colonial art taken much
no morning paper rolling off the too seriously.
presses to share depressing news on That year a large stately car stood
a Sunday morning. We let off steam gleaming bright maroon in the
at rowdy parties with a steady flow driveway, its brass fittings glinting
of half-gallon beer flagons called ornately in the sun’s rays. The lowered
hood revealed plush leather seats
Cherry blossoms in Hagley Park. and a crocodile skin interior newly