The wind sings four different songs through around the lamp post. Each fluorescent case sirensa slightly different song. I have never noticed before 4 light spillers on 1 post.
I have been cold to my very core all day, sprinting to the bus I just make it, but am unable to find my return ticket. "You are going to love me" I say pulling a 20 pound note. "No you are going to love me" he replies shaking his head, eying me up he nods me on stopping around the corner to check I have it. A huge wave of gratitude floods me warming me slightly.
Coming out of Morisions on the way home my ears catch roar of enthusiasm and chanting from the footie ground. I promise myself when I am not so knackered, me and the camera will check it out.
Bit of that
Experience is not what happens to a man. It is what a man does whit what happens to him.
Aldous Huxley
(the sofa dog and cat moulded around me when I got home. I turn to liquid and all tensions ebbs away. The sofa is such a treat that I am not sorry I chose comfort over cold).
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