carcass of the day

 It is now twenty-one past one on Sunday and last nights visit to the blues concert has been recovered from. It was a so much better concert than the one of the day before. 

But it was late, and one of the artists in attendance got drunk enough to be unsteady and so he was walked home to his flat by this humble self. He was too unsteady to wheel his bicycle. But the result of this was that by the time home was reached it was two in the morning.

The body collected its due sleep and cashed it in straight away.

The pictures of the tiny statues were well received yesterday, pictures of naked people modelled in wood. The concert was good, they were all good musicians.

The day started at eight today, a message on the phone. The munich photographer has informed of his awakening and his trivial activities . That is so nice of him. He is one of the people who can use his personal pronoun very many times in a sentence and countless times in a paragraph. Fell back to sleep promptly.

Now that breakfast is done and the pills taken, the body washed of all the smoke and kitchen smells from yesterday it is time to proceed to scratch at what is left of the carcass of the day.