Test of time

At lunchtime I was with my workmate Rob, poking around the market in the drizzle. Before we’d had chance to scope the options, a German sausage seller had commandeered us, was slicing a bread roll and asking us if we wanted gherkins. She was impressively forthright and was presumably trying to boost poor trade.

I met Laura after work. We had a cursory walk around the meadows in the gloam, following by the main event of the night: ciders at the pub. Drinking establishments are getting good at booting people out by 10pm, but it was wise of tonight’s pub to do so as we were fairly sozzled for a Monday. I bumbled my way back to the house and ate some sausage rolls.

This social distancing warning tape adorning every other rack in the bike cage has not stood up to the test of damp, autumnal weather.