Sunrise, with carpets

She said, "There is no reason
And the truth is plain to see"
But I wandered through my playing cards
And would not let her be
One of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might just as well have been closed

I catch an early train to Edinburgh. The station is five minutes from the flat, along the sea front and up the hill. An hour later, I’m walking through Holyrood in the morning light.

At 6 I’m walking along London Road for a Calba dinner at Kushis. Stephen, Trevor, and Woody are already there. Ray arrives, somewhat discomfited by an email he just received. Greg lugs in a cool bag full of assorted IPAs.

Too much food later I head off to catch the last bus home. Which turns out to be Sunday only. Uber comes to the rescue and lightens my bank account.