Tuesday 4 August 2009

• An encounter with a master plasterer with particularly mobile eyebrows. God bless the habituees of the French House.
• A texted image of Tim, arms a-flying, playing the piano. Wish I'd stayed.
• The hideously ironic timing of a mis-sent email. Turns out, I really will never learn.
• A greasy, greasy cold samosa - bliss.
• A minute on the steps looking at the moon, while the road was silent.