It's raining again. That light grey drizzle that suits London so well. Coming down over the whole city, making the streets shiny (but close up they are dirty water, and grit).
Inside, in the dry, I am staring at the computer with little piggy eyes that are tired from having a few too many beers last night. Three and a half hours until I can leave. I've had a sandwich, but I had it early, so I will be hungry again in a couple of hours when there's nothing left in the staff canteen except egg mayonnaise. There's always egg mayonnaise.
I need more brown liquid from the tea/coffee machine (no.52, strong, no sugar).
I'm not sure how long the alcohol and caffeine can keep me suspended.
2 comments:
Number 52, strong, no sugar. I remember it well. But why not bypass the middleman and just suck your dirty water with grit in it straight off of the pavement outside?
It will happen, one day. When I fall off my bike on a rainy day and fly towards the pavement, and shatter my head like a coconut against the tarmac, and the last thing I will taste will be brown gritty water.
Hmm...52, strong, no sugar...is that you Jesus?
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