the little old, rather grey, librarian suddenly vaulted over the desk of her musty dusty library where the hundreds of dog eared and hounded volumes had been her solitary companions. She ran out into the street, tearing her tweed asunder and casting her spectacles into a privet hedge. Squinting into the horizon she hitched the shreds of burberry around her knocky knees and fled to a better life on the high seas.

A strange thing I've noticed in both Malmö and Copenhagen is the presence of the outline of someones feet drawn onto the pavement in white paint. About a size 10 I'd say, quite wide feet, and always standing rather than walking. Not everywhere, but here and there.

Weather: Close, damp.
Music: Primus (precisely now, John the Fisherman)
Book at the minute: Mara and Dann, by Doris Lessing. Just finished by How the Dead Live by Will Self, very most modern, apparently.

shame on you Blair....so how, exactly, is the security of the UK 'enhanced' since the war, fucking wanker BBC NEWS | Politics | Blair says WMD 'may never be found'