/* There are spider-webs hanging from the ceiling of my room.
But there are no spiders.
This worries me somewhat - but not as much as the slugs that don't live downstairs. */
/* Well. Here we are again in the frozen north - not so frozen yet, but give it time and once again the road will be icy and the puddles all mirror-brittle in the winter sun. It's noticeably colder up here than it was in Southampton, even now.
Everything I write with those Magnetic Poetry kits sounds like I'm a goth. This irritates me. I may post an example later, if I can get a photo of it.
Mmmm. Off to put in large order with novatech. */
/* The sunrise came in through the patio doors and bounced off the wood flooring, coating the living room in gold. I sat up to watch it and my skin goosebumped as the cool air hit it.
Summer is gone, folks. Dark nights and colder methodologies call - it's time for me to fly back north again. */
/* A car driving along the road stops, and a woman gets out. She lays a bunch of flowers by the side of the road, and gets back into the car. They drive off.
I'll never know the story. I'll never know why. */