The solstice is here, right now, and even if I hadn't read this on the internet and also been told it about nine times today, it's apparent. It's much too dark and unnecessarily cold. All but one of the people I so much dislike seeing in the same place at the same time every day have seemingly picked up on my displeasure, and have gone to ground. But the old lady is still prowling in the park before dawn each day. She clomps up and down the paths, behind her wheelie walker, and stops at the newish toilet block to do her exercise, which is this: stand between two bike hoops and grip them hard, while kicking your leg violently forward and backwards, after a while change legs. Is this what 'physical jerks' is like? ie the thing the young men at the tennis club do to develop their chests (in Just William books, I am talking about, obviously). I still say to her Good Morning even though it is the middle of the night at 6:20 am and both of us are clearly lunatics to be out in it.
But this is all entirely beside the point because all that I really wished to do was show you that stuffed dog sitting on the pavement on the Capital City trail, and tell you that the man walking towards the edge of the frame at the upper left corner said, as he passed me, It looks real doesn't it. Like a complete traitor to everything I have ever stood for and/or held dear, I did a stupid, mirthless laugh, probably the kind Hitler used to do* before everything really turned to shit in his life, and said Oh yes, it sure does.
No it doesn't. Unless he meant, It looks like a real stuffed toy, but that's not what he meant. Scroll back up and have a proper look at him. On drugs for sure. You'll see.
*Did you know that Hitler was a vegetarian? You didn't did you.
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