Story to tell

This is one of those photographs whose story I should like to tell but do not feel equipped to do.   It is one of too many from the half dozen or so albums I inherited from my grandmother, two-thirds of which originally belonged to her father, which are unlabelled and unidentified.

This is also seemingly unidentifiable, at least as to place.   Obviously a photographic studio - were it not possible to read the name above the window - 'ROWLEY & CO.  PHOTOGRAPHERS' - the enormous windows and skylight would indicate that, but local enquiries within the Halifax area and searches through trade directories have failed to suggest its whereabouts.   And none of the posters on the wall to the right hand side are decipherable as to place either.

Nevertheless, it seems to me that the woman apparently looking in the window is not doing so with complete attention, perhaps she is waiting for someone.  Alternatively, the viewpoint, from across the street, beside another brick building suggests covert observation ...   Nothing so dramatic as a murder, I am certain ... but what?

Heartfelt composition

Less than five minutes after starting, the monitor on the cross trainer registers my heart-rate at 153 – I can never remember whether it ought not to exceed 200 minus my age or 220, but in any case was too busy imagining and putting into words the end of a confrontation between hero no.1 and heroine to worry about it too much.

Nine sets of weights, three sets of twenty repeats on each: too much thinking causes me to lose count so I frequently over- or under-exercise, and too often forget which machines I’ve already been on. I hurry round without pause because I need to get home to write it all down.

The treadmill has a chart of maximum heart rate for cardiac or fat burning exercise: after five minutes of a hill programme mine exceeds that of a 30 year old, which I think is probably a bad thing rather than a good one, but I am also composing a ‘losing her virginity’ scene (for the second time to hero no.2) which might have something to do with it. I also suspect the heating is set too high. Straight home no change no shower no lunch until all salient points, all apt and crafted phrases are noted down.