Thursday 10 July 2014

Oh reader, save my soul from the sword.

How was I to know...? How could I have known as I took the cable car into the deepest cave under France, under Europe, how could I have known what to expect? Even the dying man is forever dreaming. In the cable car I had imagined tea on the promenade with Helen, considered the pros and cons of hanging myself, thought of Thom and the homework I'd neglected, and, all the while, staring at my old Derby loafers I'd imagined calling Marco ( son of Stefan ), in Florence, regarding their accalimed line in ash grey loafers. So it was. Possibly even I, a therapist, need my defences. But if I'd known then what I know now, I'd have made a better time, made a better fist of it, at Axel's  party.

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