I met Pete, a policeman that I used to work with, after work for a few drinks at the German market in town. We nattered on about one thing and another. Pete is retiring to the South of France in about four years time, and I was glad to hear about how his preparations are developing. He’s looking at a well-paid retirement, thanks to his decent police pension, so he won’t need to work to get by. Work will be about passing time, so Pete has enrolled for a sports massage course. He’ll get involved with a local rugby club, or a cycling club, and spend a few days now and then rubbing down athletes. What a neat plan. What a great thing to work towards. How inspiring!
After a few drinks to many, I felt decidedly woozy, and staggered onto the bus home. Three teenage girls, none older than fourteen, were sat around me on the top deck discussing which colleges they wanted to go to. One was better for art, apparently, and another for science. Drunk as I was, I’ve forgotten most of the details. But each of them had a clear idea of what they wanted to do, where they wanted to do it, and why.
What do I want to do with the future? Find a new place to live, to start with. And then… Hmmmm.
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