Stilling the Carnival

The sun has dimmed outside, the heat has drawn back. At least for a while. A coolness descends. Monday morning, and all is quiet, even the seagulls sound muted.
The world cup is now a memory (and I still don't know who is won) and the month tumbles toward August.

Was dreaming last night about an indoor market in Worcester, a place that doesn't exist in waking life but I seem to have dreamt of before. The market was smaller that I remember, and I wished to visit a record stall there. The CDs were tightly packed in and I was afraid the stall would close.

I woke from this to the sound of shouting. Some kind of drama on the street outside. A woman swearing, a man swearing back. The police came, quietly. I could hear him explaining to them; 'She gave me the finger, it was an assault! I want her arrested!'

I eventually dropped back to sleep.

I have an array of missions to do today; write out a reference for Pam, go down the council tax office, do laundry, do the first roughs of Andrea's CD cover artwork. Still, up fairly early, despite a fitful and broken sleep last night.

Bottles of rum at Andy's flat then Ben's flat on Saturday night. One of Ben's friend explaining to us a complicated theological delusion, of the Dead Lord, the Dark Lord and the Devil. The three choices apparently. Still, he is off to London to be exorcised on Thursday. Never meant him before, nor likely to again. Get back to Andy's flat at about 8:00am, spend all day sleeping on the sofa. Sunday quick as a broken candle.

A heatwave forecast, but I can taste rain in the air. Rain might be good, but whatever, it certainly feels like the summer carnival is stilled this morning. A breath of peace. It feels nice.