friday, 3.56am.

It might have been when the horse was brought in that I realized I should no longer have been in bed.
People, tonnes of 'em, one cooking bacon, i think still in the wrapper,while I tried to make news cels in my living room and keep everyone quiet at the same time.
Then someone brought in a dog, then a horse, then i opened my eyes,looked at my clock, 3.20bloody6AM.

By the tiny balls of christ.

Hopped into pants and onto my bike.

(pause)

After exiting the building.

En route sightings

Police car with unsettling high beams through my alleyway as i veered out; compassionate sorts due to the fact that they didn't chase me down for veering across the street on a red. Bless them.

King and Lansdowne: One man slumped back in a car seat and surrounded by police cars, black and white, lights flashing. Dead as a stump, no doubt. (You heard it here first. Ha. Who says I'm not up on the news?)

King and Bathurst: no lights on today at the Travellodge motel. All criminal activity therefore ceased for the evening. (Likely with the death of the man at King and Lansdowne.)

King and John (near Wellington): One scary balding blonde man, definitely a pedophile (determined by his close resemblance to a horizontally compressed Phillip Seymour Hoffman) Exiting ceeBeeCee.

As well as one security guard abandoning desk inside in favour of well lit newspaper box and cell phone; Likely texting boyfriend to inform him she is going to the airport this afternoon after work, heading somewhere distant and exotic for good. He can sell all her jewelry if he so desires, she never liked it anyhow.