I’ve given up smoking so many times it’s so easy now. The latest justification for continuing this slow suicide was thus: Not smoking does not make me a better person. Anyway, this is my last attempt to buy myself a few more days/weeks/months/years.
While on the subject of clocks and time, the dreaded tick-tock tick-tock of some women’s biological clocks seem to be accelerating as we edge close to “2003″: how else to explain the sudden, unwarranted attentions of rotten Halves?
“What wound did ever heal but by degrees?” - Othello, Act ii, Sc.3
Seek ye solace? Be gone with ye!
An encounter with Odette, a nice girlie en route from South Africa to happiness; an exchange over coffee seems a trifle affair in this context, but not when the outcome is a renewed appreciation of some choice reading matter.
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