Wednesday, April 21, 2010


It is grey.
I try to imagine a future where I am elsewhere.
Elsewhere not necessarily far from here.
Preferably home actually
(without the cat vomit you sweet mongrel animals)
With a larger bed, a furry blanket and lots of pillows.

I shall imagine myself in bed with a book and hot chocolate and my neck won’t hurt and when I get to the naughty bits in the book, someone warm will snuggle up behind me and nibble on my neck and ask if I’m hungry, and I’ll attempt a smoky narrow-eyed look (like wot they do in stories) and say I’m famished and he’ll say great - can you get me some beans on toast or something while you're up.

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