Sometimes when I’m out and about I get the feeling I’m being watched. With a face like mine I’ve sort of got used to being given the occasional sideways look. It could be an imperious cat, looking out from some impossible perch with that inbuilt feline superiority. I have this personal theory that cats were the ones who actually invented the human race, they wanted to give themselves something to look down on. The fashion for huge glass walled office blocks that sprout in city centres amongst older buildings, like fossilised teeth in a dead predator’s mouth can be the same. A semi see through wall that you might catch some movement behind, observers cocooned off in a safe, sterile environment. Humour though does still surface. I was walking up from Piccadilly station past the Piccadilly canal basin. Yes I was heading towards New Islington on a vitally important coffee and cake mission when I spotted a pair of eyes watching me from a cleaned up brick wall. The smoke of Manchester’s heavy industrial past had been scoured away and the brick gleamed bright with that redness that comes with being a bit too long in the sunshine. An old junction box of some sort still clung on with limpet like determination, someone obviously decided it needed a little more personality and had added some jaunty eyes. Do say hello if you pass by it, it’s on a quiet street so possibly doesn’t get that many visitors.