you got a fast car

cloud

Walking along the lines of the playground I start to dream escape plans. I shall get a train to France, I shall camp in a field, I shall go and stand and look at the sea. I will drink frothy coffee and eat cake. I will dig my garden. There will be no interruptions and finally, finally the sun will shine for longer than ten minutes. Other people will make the dinner. There will be swimming which I do not put off due to a reluctance to remove my clothes; and best of all I will not have to work quite so hard at suppressing the urge to tell certain colleagues just how much they are really, really irritating me.

It will be nice.