Through the window blue sky distances are caught in murk, as I make the morning test and accept my self diagnosis, the world smells of coffee. Packing a bottle of water and setting off, not sure where, not sure that on days like this you really need a destination.

Walking through the city, winding maybe a better description, avoiding the main roads, through alleys and small, unexpected parks, figures seated playing boardgames upon low tables and walls. Arriving at the river, wildflower profusions gathering audiences, tents pitched along the side of the path, groups of cyclists spread out ahead and behind while in cut grass glades croquet mallets are swung while, seen for the first time here, a game of boules is played out upon a rectangle of gravel. As I pass I wonder if this is a parody of the endless summer of 1913, the games continue while events beyond the borders bring about the end of era. Then one of those things that I can't quite get my head around, a cat on a leash as its owner takes it for a wander around the grass, a little further along an old English sheepdog, little more than a pup, is being pushed along in a doggy pram, sometimes you just have to wonder...

Under the bridge congregations have already gathered, cones laid out for roller blades, skateboarders attempting flips and tricks, mostly ending in failure and occasionally upon backsides bruised from the concrete. A couple of saxophone players, loiter upon the edge of things, their playing broken and distracted. Too busy today, too much happening and all overlapping, not the place I'm looking for. Back along the river, the sky darkening, threatening a thunderstorm which never arrives.

Returning to the flat and scanning the news, feeling as if I'm caught up in some kind of parody, a low budget sitcom consisting of interchangeable characters, absurdities and empty platitudes spilling from their tongues. My thoughts are that in the week of the migraine viewing figures were down and so the writers were encouraged to double down, to exaggerate the delusions of the main characters, ramp up the tension somehow but leave the kitchen sink for later, who knows when it'll really be needed. So lets start with an admission that China wasn't quite honest about things in Wuhan, but that it wasn't a cover up, honest guv. The ruling party showing once again that it is, and always has been, only interested in itself, in keeping power and distributing wealth to the core group at whatever cost to the populace or the wider world.

I read a comment in the Guardian stating an opinion that health workers have signed up to treat others at risk to themselves, that any who resign due to a lack of protective equipment should be treated like deserters from WW1. Agreements and other comments in the same vein, searching for humour, for parody, in the replies and finding none. I struggle to believe that there are people out there who believe this crap, no doubt from the safety of their gardens, surfacing weekly to clap those they'd place in front of a firing squad whilst awaiting the resurrection of Victoria, their Empire merely dormant. Meanwhile, in the real world, the UK continues failing and flailing, still hypnotised by the promised land of Brexit whilst unable to find either their bladders or the numerous breweries which have been unlocked for them.