Castles made of sand.

Again the windows are open. Hendrix is playing. I have a jar of surface polish and my mind is fresh from casualised wards.

Montmarcey is training to be a nurse. This takes things like gloves, a healthy mind and a healthy body, apparently. Luckily I don't have to provide the gloves. It's a puzzling thing to find yourself on a bus, one minute thinking about the endocrine system, the next about high staff turnover and how not to get fired before you start. Luckily the endocrine system can often be predictable.

Noel Reading has alot to answer to. 'Golden rose, the colour of a dream I had, not too long ago.' I think the river bekons.