and the days and nights slowly drifted by like clouds chasing the moon
After a brief but stark and harrowing face to face encounter with my financial reality last night, I met silkyfish, featheredwings, mis_appropriate and zenithed for drinks last night in Quinn's (the big yellow pub on the corner of Hawley Rd and KTR), which was good and soothing. Good points about the pub: Belgian and German beers you never heard of and never thought you'd like and become dangerously close to addiction to. Comfy. Sarah, Uwe and Liz go there, what more you want. Bad points: football. And, er, football. The giant television blaring out garish colours and shouting and the responsorial shouting from the mesmerised audience.
Then it was getting home to dream of the Caribbean sea, phosphorescent green in the night, the white foam in the wake of the ship, the moon above, slowly gliding across the sky.