East of Eden...

Finally, as my eyesight fails me, a book worthy of squinting in the badly lit space opposite the bar in Bar Three... East of Eden. And I've had to take my glasses off to see any of the too fine print in this dark chamber. It's a fine novel and reminds me of One Hundred Years of Solitude for some obscure reason: I've been waiting a long time to delve into such a glorious scrap of paper...

***

At 8pm I hung up Archies collar and lead on the floor. Having just had him out from 6 for a rough hour to the river, and it's human detritus, and back I thought he was looking at me(and letting of a little gas) because he needed yet another crap! So out we went to Sandringham Park field where he spent another few moments sniffing, licking and pissing on certain spots around the field,  like a notice board being read for every notification, before we climbed up the wooden hill to reach the sanctuary of the room at the top where the gassing continued while I faded into a good night's sleep. The first for a long while with the window closed on that busy North Street (the original path of the A1 when it was The Great North Road) during a sultry evening.

Now we sit in our usual space alongside each other with the blinds drawn, a window ajar and the pigeons breaking the silence before the increasing intrusion of motor noises on their way to another day just like yesterday...