Welcome to the dull time; head thicker than a lost cat, no clear thought, uninspired and with an after taste of tomato sauce and sardines slithering about inside my head. If I didn't know better I'd swear I was on holiday and vegetating quietly looking out to sea and being blinded by a sparkling haze on the water. Maybe I'm in a walking and waking conscious coma or I've been inhabited by a non-kindred spirit that's up to no good but without any precise agenda, just sort of feeling it's way. Perhaps I have a new disease yet to be discovered; the dull strain. Sufferers are of a certain age, have been institutionalised by routine and like to sup milky drinks and check their kneecaps for unfair wear and tear. I have had four cups of coffee mind you. Some day soon I'm going on a trip on a train.
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