At work

I'm so tired...I think I probably...

I could...

I could probably fall asleep...right here...

at the photocopier...

Blogs

Why do we blog?
It is like shouting into the dark.
Perhaps one day someone will answer.
But it will still be dark.

London

Peter Ackroyd likened London to a human body, an organism, with a pulsing heart, a head, a body, filled with energy and life, that changes and grows through the years and the centuries.
I think of it as more like a puddle, or an egg.

History

I thought it would be useful to tell you a bit about myself.
I run a stall down on Surrey Street market. We sell various things. My Ma and Da started it as a shop, with just some peas and some cogs. They got shut down by the police, but they tried again, this time starting up a business fixing mechanical elephants. The business did well, and they expanded into the shop next door, which had sold automatons of famous people. Unfortunately, my father's alcoholism got the better of him, and he floated away in a cloud of brown goo.
My mother did her best to keep things together, but in the absence of glue it all started to go awry. Awry. Eventually she ran off to join a gunnery. I and my brothers and sisters were left to fend for ourselves. Through a mixture of thievery, bastardised versions of exotic cuisine and bloody mindedness we managed it, running the shop, looking after the younger siblings, keeping an eye out for each other, and we got by.
Then everyone except me died.
And that's how I got where I am today.

This wasn't my idea.

Nonetheless, an opportunity.