I live on a converted double decker bus, like a hippy from the 80s. I travel from festival to festival selling Indian things that I fly out to buy every couple of months.
It is raining, and I avoid a bar a walk round a local museum, it has a very tacky gift shop.
It is raining and I sit down on the quay with Tony, talking about the sofa with speakers telling stories on exeter high street that a saw earlier.
We both have crutches, and race each other home. Tony gains the lead, but I realise that pushing harder with my arms gives me ridiculous acceleration, and I am whiz zing past runners and cars. I only slow down when I see lights coming around the next corner. It is an ambulance. Parked outside a hotel. My friend Sandra has a tiny horsebox van with a tiny horse in it. She asks me if I know that my phone has been hacked.
I don’t see how this could be done, but it does worry me.
I am inside a time machine shaped like a peanut. Dr Who is explaining to me that outside, everything is decaying at an incredible speed.
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