It’s also under the flight path for an RAF TTA. We once counted six planes during lunch service. All the chefs worried we were going to war. On a day too hot for sitting outside, a dragonfly straight out of Jurassic Park landed on the edge of a saucer and sucked tea through a sugar cube. Unbalancing the stack of dirty glasses leaning up against the waitress station, it made a dart for the power assisted door. All the customers missed it because they were looking in the wrong direction. Had left their bifocals at home and were concentrating on eating the crumbs off their plates like fingerpaint. But we saw those blue-bottle swan wings- caught our eyes like light off a phone screen. Then watched helplessly as a low flying F-15 Eagle jet roared over our heads and the dragonfly, the dragonfly disappeared quite suddenly. Realising it didn’t belong here.
Catherine Marina lives and works in Lancashire and Cumbria. She has an MA in Writing from LJMU, during which she had short fiction published. She has also more recently published poetry online and in anthologies. She works in hospitality, from which she is endlessly inspired.
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