Waiting for the Washing Machine to Finish

Sat on my bed, waiting for the washing machine to finish, and then to head out to meet Em. Quite looking forward to the walk over to her house - a little under half an hour. Got my back to the window, and there's a warm / cool breeze (an oxymoron I know) coming through. I am aware of those rectangles-within-rectangles of night over my left shoulder. Turn back my head and see the light on in the kitchen across the - across the locked in passage between here and there.

Fireworks go off in the distance, and don't quite drown out the whine of the washing machine in the kitchen. Had a bath instead of a shower. Lay in the soapy water for half-an-hour, mapping out the geography of the past as usual; autumn 91 at Harrow College failing a foundation course, autumn 92 (mostly) unemployed in my bedroom in Ickenham painting small canvases, autumn 93, living in Uxbridge, attending Langley College doing another (rather more successful) foundation course.

The whine of the washing machine in the kitchen appears to be reaching a crescendo. I must prepare to go out anyway, gather the objects needed for trips into Saturday night; wallet, keys, phone, i-pod.

We need so many things to go outside these days.