At 7PM

At 7PM (Inspired by Baudelaire’s At One O’Clock In The Morning)

Finally! I am home! Nothing matters but the glass of white wine in my hand. For the next three hours, I will read what I want, and write what I want. Finally, the burden of the job is sitting at the office and I can do what I want!

Finally, I can develop Ilse further and paint her secrets darker! I can take her to the darkest corners of the world and back and we can cry hot, gooey, black tears together.

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No Passport or Bus Pass Required

I had to get out of the country. I had no passport and no chance of getting one without being traced. The obvious choice was to find a small boat, but where?

Big ferry ports are a waste of time. There's security everywhere and you won't get far without a ticket, never mind a passport. Even trying the port area in the vicinity of a ferry terminal is useless. If you do manage to find a small boat with a talkative owner, he'll politely decline your request for fear of getting picked up by the customs patrols.

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A Patch of Red Somewhere

I am sitting in a fortunate position today; I have a really good view out of the window. Spring is on the way at last, and I can see a burgeoning of buds on the trees. The sun, an almost forgotten addition to the sky, is breaking through the clouds. The meeting room is warm, I ease back in my chair, stretching my legs out. I feel a bit sleepy and have to stifle a yawn. My eyes feel heavy, I just fancy drifting off for a while. I snap back to attention as my colleague nudges me surreptitiously, trying to give me a pile of spreadsheets “Take one and pass it on” she hisses.

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