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The Flensing

2 Feb

Here lies the cold carcass of Holy Trinity Square scraped clean of history, of character, of any interest whatsoever. It’s as if an old  familiar face with  laugh lines and creases has been botoxed to oblivion so there is no possibility of a smile. Deathly dull doesn’t begin to describe it. Two and a bit years ago I said this would be “a tacky, crass and short sighted act of vandalism”; I’ve not had reason to change my mind.  A sign on the church door says the place is closed while it is being transformed into a coffee bar and in the Summer there’ll be small reflection pools (reflecting the sheer emptiness of the place I suppose). I can’t wait.
There’s seating and then there’s these things as well.