an entirely written in the morning blogpost (pretty much)

an entirely written in the morning blogpost (pretty much).

on his way to the train out of hackney horsemouth found a copy of station eleven (2016) by emily st.john mandel. this is a canada/ US set post-apocalyptic novel. he has started reading it already.  it starts, an actor is performing in king lear (act 4) and then he dies onstage and the great long predicted global flu epidemic hits...

we have lived through this story and now we are out the other side into the forgetting.  

but (blessed be) we didn't emerge into the post-apocalypse but merely into a continuation of the decline of the west. 

horsemouth bumped into jacken elswyth on the train back they had a long chat from worcester shrub hill to hereford. she was off to a gig with her folks (alula down) and haress out in wales (gregynog near newtown, powys).  her parents were there in the car park at hereford to pick her up but horsemouth was pegging it off down the road in the vain hope of catching the bus. he had some hopes when he got to the bus station (there was a solitary young man at the stop) but it turned out to be a false hope and horsemouth headed off to hogarth's to nurse a pint and wait for the 1630 (1630 on a saturday 1620 otherwise except for sundays and bank holidays when you can forget it). 

as a result he wasn't home until 1730 and missed his nephew joe (who had been up in herefordshire for the week he was away).

in his time up in the wen he saw - howard, mike H, TG, john, sten, daryll, ian, colin and enza (and he saw jacken on the train).  he got some photos taken in the big empty pub and at the natlib, so a pretty successful visit. 

he repo-ed a number of books from howard, the gillian rose (he finished reading it on the train),  two diana athill's (somewhere towards the end and alive, alive oh!), the edouard louis, a thoreau writer's journal...