I was talking to one of my many former bosses today. I haven't seen him in around 4 years or so, and between catching up and explaining what happened to all the people he used to know who no longer work here, he frightened me by casually noting that his eldest son is 19 years old. His youngest, the one I remember being just out of nappies, is 14 next month. I try not to feel old, but honestly...
In other news, my muse has returned - I've been writing this story for almost a year now - it has taught me two things; that I can write sustained narrative, and that if I really wanted to do it seriously, I'd have to give up work. Ah, well. As someone once said, "nice dream".
Oh, and I really did see four airships in formation over Watford today.
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