horsemouth had been waiting in the underground bunker with the other refugees. andy had come to save him. horsemouth had to abandon some stuff (the tent).
outside on gower street a cold wind blew. the street itself was flooded with black water and dark. there was snow. horsemouth and andy conducted a game of football across it. ever so often a sports car would charge at incredible speed down the middle of it.
such was the dream this morning. horsemouth is up late. yesterday 8am (respectable), today 9am (not respectable).
it is the day of the north shropshire by-election. on offer are various extents of humiliation. it is noticeable they haven't sent up boris on a charm offensive.
last night a bottle of beer and another m.r. james ghost story a view from a hill but before that a meeting on zoom of the communal endeavour. horsemouth supported what he took to be the improved communication proposal. this time communications performed in a satisfactory fashion.
yesterday horsemouth did some physical labour (fortunately there was no one around with a camera). he cleared off fallen branches and helped his dad haul up some logs from the bottom of the garden. there's more yet to do. (it is, of course, the kind of work that can't be done by AI). he also did a quick walk up to the common. he's still feeling a bit whacked from his jab (hopefully it's the jab).
at some point horsemouth wants to get in some phonecalls to transfer some cash (he needs to make sure it works).
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