This gentleman had been walking through the town centre clutching this small vacuum sealed sandwich box under his arm. I watched as he stopped in his tracks and purposefully checked the time on his watch and then compared it’s accuracy with that of the large clock on the Buttercross.
I assumed that the time on his leather strapped watch must have proved accurate because he then walked slowly over towards this old bench seat where he proceeded to sit himself down and carefully place this sandwich box alongside him.
He then carefully removed his spectacles and with a small piece of cleaning cloth; he wiped the lenses clean before holding them upwards to the light to examine their clarity. Then placing them comfortably back onto his face he removed a small booklet from a pocket inside his fleece top; and turned it’s pages open to the one previously earmarked. He then placed it on on his lap and commenced scanning the contents.
After just a minute or two he opened up the sandwich box and removed this one solitary doorstep sized sarnie comprising two thick slices of fresh bread uncut; before then taking one large and satisfying bite.
There was nothing else in the box just this one solitary sandwich; but he seemed to enjoy every mouthful as he sat in the relative peace and quiet reading whatever information his little booklet contained.
Once the sandwich was finished he shut the lid of his box brushed the crumbs from his clothing; returned the little booklet to his jacket pocket and once more checked his wristwatch. Then he was up and walking back from the direction in which he had just come.
My curiosity kicked in and I got to wondering if he made this solitary sandwich himself; and if this was in fact a ritual he carried out most days of the week?
I shall keep an eye out next time i’m over there in case our paths should cross again? But for now I’m a bit peckish as it goes; I think Greggs Pasty shop is calling me.