Ah well. Let’s admit it, no news is good news. And I have no news.
Not only no news, but nothing much in my head apart from the lazy, munchy thoughts arising from digesting my breakfast. Wheat toast. Eggs sunny side up. Fried ripe tomatoes. Can’t go wrong with that. Comfortable thinking, is that.
On the uncomfortable side, we’re being advised to stay away from crowded places now, and the airlines are starting to ban suspect ‘flu cases.
“It’s the end of the world,” whimpering rather than banging.
“We’re all going to die,” as the drunk in the corner of the diner bar said, in The Birds.
Yeah. We should have such luck.
