Ferris Wheels, Rising from the Sea

Watching the the glittering shards on the surface of the water. Thinking there is Europe across there and after work I settle for the Churchill Shopping Centre instead. Makes me think of other shopping centres, of The Pavilions in Uxbridge. A strangely ragged place, but exactly the same as all other shopping centres, oddly comforting though, like some decaying hotel in the centre of some autumnal forest. I remember the book stall where Louise worked, and the butchers, and when I went back there last November it was all the same as over 20 years before. just slipping further down into its sleep-like euphoria of entropy.
The sea disturbs me.
Everyone faces the sea when they're down there, sitting on the pebbles and on deck chairs. Like they're waiting for something someone at work says. People staring at the void, fascinated by that nothing-expanse of the sea, by the italics of it all. I do this too though, between calls; stare at the no-tides, the dead currents, the absolute-zero calm. Try to imagine sea monsters and giant octopi and fail, but summon up in my imagination instead industrial fairgrounds rising from the waters. Black iron ferris wheels, chemical plant roller coasters, dodgems dripping with seaweed and aluminium mining relics.
No serpents though. Perhaps I'll leave them to the lakes.
The shards that glitter on the surface of the sea look irradiated