104.  Thursday afternoon at Cannon Street.

It was a last minute decision to come here.  It’s okay.  Spacious, screens.  There’s a commotion about a group of young people.  They’re arguing.  That happens in groups of people, which is why I don’t function in them, or engage in situations with multiple people.  The mixed race man with check trousers is here, not … Continue reading 104.  Thursday afternoon at Cannon Street.

45.  Another day.  Roughly the same place.

I’m maybe oversensitive to it but it feels as though the distancing and mask thing is loosing importance and momentum now.  There’s a Hoggarth/Lord Of The Flies vibe of destruction abroad.  I don’t want to waste energy gatekeeping it.  There will be self-appointed expert authorities doing that for years to come.  The Melvyn Hayes character … Continue reading 45.  Another day.  Roughly the same place.

83.  Sunday evening.  You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.

Borders are closed, France, Netherlands, Ireland, Canada.  It’s like the siege in Passport To Pimlico.  There was a train derailment today.  They’re becoming commonplace now and not reported.  Are we becoming numb and desensitised to everything? Monday morning, Winter solstice.  I’m up quite early, it is still dark outside.  Sainsbury’s is already open, with it’s … Continue reading 83.  Sunday evening.  You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.