Making it up

No trip back from Tooting Bec tonight. But I wish there was. So I’m making one up.

It was one of those nights not spent with my girlfriend, which means I miss her. That terrible feeling of being way from something that feels like home. Days are separated into those spent with her and those not. I know which ones I prefer.

So it’s 1am now. That would be about an hour after we would say something like ‘I suppose I’d better go’. Then an hour would pass of ignoring the time. We’d fall asleep watching rubbish on telly, because we can’t ever find anything to watch.

So I’d leave the house. This is the worst bit. And then the walk to the bus stop. Five minutes, passed the best Tooting Bec Non-Corner Corner Shop. Passed the 90 year old lady. Passed the Cottage Chicken outlet and half a dozen curry houses. Passed any night time harmless lunatic on their own adventure. Then the bus, or a taxi, or on those other days a half an hour walk across Tooting Common where not even dark hiding places for the nutters puts me off. So yes. I like these adventures.

And this month is Nanorimo. National Novel Writing Month. I’ve written close to 600 words so I’m rewarding myself with a break. Leaning out of the window to smoke. The cost is that the garret is fucking freezing. Feels good. Everyone should feel like this.