Saturday, June 30, 2012

Journal extract.

...A thin band of orange creeps across the horizon. The day comes. Venus and Jupiter, the two brilliant planets in the eastern sky, begin to fade. Their time has come and gone.
I am already showered, shaved and dressed. I slept OK, but rose early.
In the red lounge car, it's just me and one other. Everyone else is clambering for heart-starting coffee in the next carriage.
I say "hello" as I pass my fellow traveller and he replies with an eastern European-flavoured salutation. He begins to cough. And cough. The sort of cough you are rewarded with after smoking a packet a day for fifty years. I think he might be about to die, but he just keeps coughing instead. The coughing only stops once he's used the communal sink in the refreshment spot as a spittoon. Nice.
Three shows yesterday; pretty much three and a half hours back-to-back. Rock and roll.
And the world races by...

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