
The daylight crept up upon me like a bad-intentioned thief in the night. And the sun rose like purple prose from below the horizon to assault my senses, leaving me dazed, confused, and, to be honest, a little teary (it was just like a birthing).
However, now that it was here, there were things to do, things to get done, and things that I neither had to do, nor would get done. It is the way.
I wandered out. It was rather cold. So, I wandered back in again to put on some extra layers. And a scarf. And a hat. Then… I wandered out again. Sometimes a false start is just a warm up to a journey.
‘Out’ was the new ‘In’ – if the truth be known it was just the opposite. ‘In’ was soon to be the new ‘Out’ – but, I had to travel the many roads that a man must walk down (and ‘up’ them on the way back) before you can call me ‘a man’ – it may have been forty-two, but I wasn’t counting.
So, eventually, I reach the metaphorical ‘back’ after my little literary leanderings (not a word – made it up for alliterative effect) and go ‘inside’ – where I am out of coffee. Sadly, that is what I went to the shops for.
Another day, another dolour.