Hot today. Properly hot.
The Northern line at six was soup with opinions.
The bus was worse. Humidity in the ninetieth percentile. I checked. Twice.
At home, two recognised methods for resetting the internal thermostat.
A gin and tonic. Or a storm.
I chose the storm.
Thunder & Lightning. Immaculate. Air cleared. Temperature down. Pressure — a private matter.
For the record: I do not control the weather. The storm in question lives in my bedside drawer. Left of the passport.
Normal length resumes next week.
ch.
