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I was walking from the main road across the little park that leads to the Estate.  The park itself has some history, it didn’t used to be there 10 yrs ago.  It used to be that you could just walk under the blocks of flats on the main road as they were built on kinda stilts.  Then, the Council turned the vacant space under the flats into more accommodation, closing shortcuts.

They created a new one though, a little park.  Just the thickness of a tower block, a path through it, an infants play area, a few benches .... and gates.  The gates were closed at dark, so if you got off at the bus stop you had to walk around the block where once you could cut through.  A large lock was part of the gates.

A few months later, getting off the bus one afternoon and cutting through the park I noticed the lock had been crowbarred eternally open.  “Good” I thought.

The convenience was enjoyed for a couple of months and then the gates were closed at dark with a large chain locked round them.  A few months later, getting off the bus one afternoon and cutting through the park I noticed that one of the opened gates had a huge dent in it and the chain was hanging off, broken.  Someone must’ve driven a vehicle into it one night. “Excellent” I thought. 

The chain remained hanging in place until the gates were fixed in an open position.  Authority deferred to local direct acton and the respect accorded the broken chain.   The cut through is available at all hours since.

So I was walking through the little park on my way home and there was a smattering of pigeons pecking at the path and the grass verge.  A few yards away from them was a cat, sitting sideways on to them.  This didn’t look right at all.

I walked through the pigeons and approached the cat.  It took me for an agreeable stranger and got up and made the moves a cat makes when it hopes to be stroked.  
I stopped and had a brief conversation with it to the effect of what did it think it was doing lying there when there were pigeons to be stalked but one bound away?

Then I noticed, as it flirted the cat’s nose was always near the same point and there, not far from it, in the grass was a small hole.   So that’s why it was so disinterested in the pigeons, it had been staring down the hole.

I didn’t stop to pet it but walked on.  The cat adopted a new position, sideways to when
I first came on it and now facing the pigeons though not looking at them.  It’s nose above the hole trying to fathom what may be down there.  Or what may come up.

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