I hate august.
Whatever i do, it gets to me.
Maybe I should just give up and take a whole month off, hole up in my precious grotto and devour books, ‘cos the only thing that this draught is good for – it is making imaginary worlds feel more real more easily.
You just have to reach out, a slightest notion is enough and a most vivid fantasy is real.
And I mean really REAL – of flesh and blood and bones, living, breathing, strugling.