These Flagpoles Saved My Life

These flagpoles saved my life.

 

They stand outside the Commonwealth Institute in Kensington. My Evil Grandmother would bring me to this place when I was a child, in order to Improve me. This used to happen in ritual fashion every Saturday afternoon.

 

I dreaded these outings. My Evil Grandmother was truly Evil – I don't use the word lightly, and I'm not about to give you examples, but she was Evil, trust me on this. I would stand wet & naked & shivering by the open window on Friday nights, hoping to get so sick that I wouldn't have to go out with her. (It never worked. The Vervaine constitution proved distressingly robust.)

 

The only way I could survive the Saturday afternoon ordeal was to develop an inordinate fascination with the flags of the Commonwealth. She thought my interest in these flags was sufficiently edifying, and would therefore leave me alone for a little while, as I gazed up at them, flapping in the deep blue sky, free in a way I could only dream of being.

 

So these flagpoles became my friends & allies. They helped me to survive, and for that, I love them to this day. And I know that's a bit weird, but hey...

Done