I leave my flat. I’m sure I always sleep well but I usually wake up with an ache in my lower back. The key to a good nights sleep is a good mattress. Some of the best nights sleep I have ever had have been on the floor. Outside is grey and I admire how the lines that describe the buildings in the distance have dissolved leaving only floating squares and rectangles. Dodging wet manholes on my bike I am interrupted by a faint yet rampant and reliable bleeping that comes louder and louder. I like to eat my beans first, leaving the egg and some toast till last, these are my favourite bits. Today however I ate them together as one.

After finding a place for to park I ask the first person I see if she knows if this road goes to Victoria Park. Then I stand still looking as if I were waiting to cross the road before bouncing into the news agents behind me. On this small stretch there are several shops of similar description, some sell beer some do not some sell Double Deckers some do not. I only make eye contact with the shop keep, greet him then begin to peruse. This store has beer. I may, if I choose, buy one and drink. I may, if I choose, buy one and leave it on the street.

I had almost carpeted the sock pot at gathered past peas. A wall gagging trumpet almost got last crab on the shiny melon half. Wait, pencil larger than silly yards waters will cellophane drama. Blithering post cone box now pill over cough and duffle, beat grainy ostracise to shingle. Dodging wet manhole covers on my bike I remember the bleeping. Numb finger on my right hand and a faint yet rampant and reliable bleeping comes louder and louder.

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