I made it out this morning. It is the first time in 9 days. I tossed my bin-bag of turds and picked a little bit of the galvinised paint from the steel bin. Later I’ll upload a photo of it and see how many shades of grey it comprises. I can spot 9 by eye. Though I’m not quite sure if silver is grey?

There was an old woman walking down the road. She wore a beige surgical stocking around her swollen left ankle and had one of those metal frames. It kinda looked like she’d taken the garden gate with her. I walked on the other side of the pavement and matched her halfstep for halfstep. It took us 45 minutes to move 100 yards. Why was she perservering? For what purpose? Her stubborness was irritating, her refusal to stop completely and give up. It’s people like me that have to watch people like her... that have to be reminded of what the future holds. It’s dismal, I tell you. The future is dismal.


  1. I have no idea who you are but you sort of charm me.

  2. Charm you! and i didn't even have to play the fiddle.


  3. If I follow your blog I guess it means that I am, by proxy, also waiting for John. Whoever he is. And is this anything like waiting for Godot?

  4. A very intriguing blog you've got going on here.

    I, too, find you to be somewhat charming, in a most peculiar way.

  5. @ Whitney-Anne: Yes, you're also WFJ. Godot? If you see that it can be, but never having seen nor read it, any similarities are coincidental. Of course I hd hard of it, though. X

    @ Helena: Thanx! X

    @ Chicken: Charming? Me? Twice in one day... I must be slipping. X


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