Tuesday, February 03, 2009

He took off his trousers all burning and bright
And the shoes that had served him by day and by night
And he put on a shirt, and a pair of old socks
And a dirty white mac, and an old cricket box

posted by Weasel @ 11:23 PM 0 comments

Monday, February 02, 2009

Oh dear, oh dear - time to move on. Time to seek pastures new, time to get out before the whole damn thing falls down. What is there new? Waiting for news now, and not good I fear. That news I really need is not coming.

posted by Weasel @ 7:39 PM 0 comments

So is she here? Is she waiting over there and watching, colouring the light as only she can, or is it real?

That I have to ask the question is bad enough, that I can't see one way or the other, that I can't tell would suggest that she is here again, watching over there and waiting.

posted by Weasel @ 7:35 PM 0 comments