Whatever that means
I don’t know how many times I’ve walked that path through the gardens without looking up and noticing. Maybe two or three times a week in one direction or the other. Reassuring when that happens – there’s always going to be something if you just keep looking.
Anyway a Monday like any other. A bus, a train, some work. After a walk, a pint with Mr Moff and the heaviest talk yet at Stills. Alain Badiou and the New Topographics. Jings, after a day at work. Train home and a new car. Well, new to me.