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.

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