The sun is drying the dew off on the ivy. I can hear birds singing and children playing. It’s too early
A year ago, I was contending that as someone who had always worked from home I’d been in training for a global pandemic for 30 years: I’ll do your lockdown standing on my head – bring it.
That was a couple of lockdowns ago, but it’s only recently that something has arrived to upset my mental equilibrium: hope. After months safely cloaked in the armour of despair, hope has suddenly left me unpeeled and paranoid: in my dreams, dark forces range against me, and the police are often involved.
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