More Late Notes.

Part of the quest is to seek out the miniscule minority of magical and milieuless people, thereby to add meaning to the mundane. I know the alliteration looks a bit contrived, but it just slipped out that way.

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Somebody said to me today ‘Whatever they say, I reckon the NHS is on its way out.’ I’m inclined to agree with her, and I think the reason is fundamentally the same as the reason why America has never had one. What’s the point of having something that doesn’t make somebody a profit? But if you’ll excuse the pun, prophetic words do not a prophet make.

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There’s a house on Mill Lane which often has the kitchen blind up, and so the light spills across the road. And it often happens that when I walk across it, I step on the shadow of somebody standing close to the window. And that makes me feel uneasy, and it promotes the question: ‘Does a shadow exist?’

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Visions have taken to appearing, beckoning, re-igniting the life force, and then disappearing again.

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I did some more undercoating today and none of the paint went onto the carpet. The area of carpet thus afflicted yesterday is now dry and free of stains. JJ did a good job.