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Work hit hard today. He had worked so hard the sun didn't come out.
From the first ticks in the morning he could sense the negative vibes in the bed while he pressed against it to wake up. Everyone was happy around him yet no one was happy for him. Too many people had died. A tickling scent of damp limestone as he floated off the house pre-announced a very boring day.
He didn't assume any particular attitude towards this feeling. He just walked off to work. He didn't tell me anything about what happened at work and privacy restrictions in my mind tell me that I can't narrate anything.
He came back. The story goes on but I have to start reading now. Sorry.
Also by Nigel Baldacchino
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