I’m At Work.

I’m at work drinking Rose in the staff kitchen.
A little dusty today.
Delightfully dusty in fact.
There really is something to be said for the absence of sulphites in my diet these days.
I flit above the surface of things.
I fancy talking, a lot.
Good films.
Fresh fish.
I’ve downed some two litres of iced water, popped some B12, sauntered out for fresh-as-you-like sushi from Devonshire Street.
I hum a certain tune.
Which reminds me to upload some Leonard on to my iPod shuffle.
Funny really.
I’ve not listened to him in yonks.
I’m banging this out now as I’m about to dart off to a friends to cook up a storm and make magical sounds with saucepans and pots and champagne flutes and such as I cater for her birthday.
We make a mess in the kitchen.
She’s the chef. I’m the cook.
We both wear heels.
It affects the flavor of things.
We plan to make a show of it.
I think it could be a hit.
Her and I and some electricity.
I feel lucky today.
Lucky like a new thing–



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