Wednesday 11 May 2016

That Retfa Tib Eht.


How did I get here?
Soaking in the bath, end of the day legs. The window is open and the rain is pouring down, drumming against the tarmac and on the roof of the neighbour’s garage.
Shoes off, socks off – can’t achieve this quickly enough.
Do you need a bag?
Two bottles of Rioja and a packet of mixed white and dark chocolate buttons. Tell no one.
Walk the wet street.
Ride the disrupted tube – alien signals failure, or was it earlier?
Visit the German bakery with no bread left.
Buckets of coffee and chocolate.
Fudge and Lemonade.
Curry .
Time to eat.
Sir Wren's work above, and alongside.
The bus, hop on, hop off, back seat – top deck. The front seat is best, but taken.
The Strand, been here in the past.
This used to be a theatre museum but I like what you did.
The maps, we need maps, it’s the place to get them.
193 steps – can I still do it?

Overground Underground about to be underground Underground.
I’m on the train.
I’m off the train.
I’m on a train.
Stay where you are.
I need chocolate, I need water, I cross the road.
Leave the optician’s.
Talk with the optician – how much!!!???
Enter the optician.
Wait for the optician.
Buy a pencil.
Wait for the optician.
Look at some shoes.
Wait for the optician.
Look at the books.
Wait for the optician.
Exit the optician’s.
Can you wait?
Enter the optician’s.
Walk the street.
Leave the station.
Sit on the train.
Stand on the train.
Walk through the park – the foxes have been amongst the rubbish.
Oh, mum!
Is that woman dead?
There’s a fridge in the middle of the pavement.
Leave the house.
The maggots are in the fridge.
The maggots come by post.
That Robin is eating maggots, from the bird feed box.
It’s hotter in London than in Ibiza.
The sun is shining.
Listen to Desert Island Discs.


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