This weekend I’m away in Melbourne, visiting my sister. I stay at her in-laws, who live in a tiny village a few miles away. It’s wonderful out and you soon notice all the ugly things taken for granted in Brighton; no sirens, no drunks on mobiles, no pollution. Apart from a trip to Loughborough I don’t have much planned for the weekend.
Thursday’s reading at Short Fuse went well. I read Meat, which is a strange one. I can’t help wondering if the people in the audience are wondering how much of it is true. It’s not graphic, but definitely gets its point across. I enjoyed the other stories in the evening, particularly the third, about a woman in a motorcycle accident. Afterwards my friend Peter and I wandered to the Great Eastern where I met Rosy. The night ended with a trip to the Market Diner for breakfast. I’m pleased to say I still managed to be up for my run the following day.