Wednesday, July 25, 2007
One Thirty: I've been totally alone in a silent office for about ten minutes now. How long this will last I'm not sure, but it's both strange and beautiful. I sit in my chair, cross-legged, shoes off and indulge in a favourite hobby which is called "gazing out of the window and day dreaming". My face, if anyone could see it, has probably gone all vacant and drippy.
A phone rings - I jump theatrically (although there is no one there to see it) and spill weak lemon drink in my lap.
The spell is broken.
"Blather blather blather ... it's horrible, we're having to live upstairs ... the front room's full of sofas I can't sit on...I have a four year old and no dining table ... blather blather"
I hold out for another 15 minutes and then I say it: "It could be worse, you could be in Oxfordshire."
She pauses, thinks for a second and comes back with: "...Yeah, well, we're stuck upstairs as well"
"Yeah, well, at least your living room’s not full of shit." Is what I don't say.
Show Me How The Spectres Dance - Liam Frost and the Slowdown Family