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CYCLING|WRITING|CREATIVE WRITING
Diary of a Cycling Instructor
A stab at modern art, or just plain carelessness?
I looked at the fence. “Are they the school entry to the #TurnerPrize this year?”
She laughed. “That’s lost property. We’ve had them there for weeks and no one’s come to claim them.”
The coats and jackets swayed in the early morning April breeze. A few days before I’d been to The Photographers’ Gallery to see Peter Mitchell’s “Nothing Lasts Forever”. Amongst the photos on display there were a few of scarecrows. Somehow the winter clothing on the fence reminded me of them.
Right then our young charges turned up. My colleague and I made our way to the bicycle shed to collect the cycles that would be used in the training session. I stole a last glance in the direction of the coats and jackets. The official school entry to the Turner Prize. That would have made a brilliant April’s Fools’ Day joke.
You can buy me a coffee here.
