Dirge Thursdays.
Or Mondays.
Or Tuesdays.
Anything but Friday.
The man, the myth, the legend.
He comes.
Or rather, he’s coming soon; comes almost as soon as he leaves.
Said he’ll be around for twenty-four, ‘just doing bits and bobs’; cagey, dangerous, ‘you know the score’.
Seconds, minutes, hours — I’m not sure. Time blurs. The eternal prison.
It’s not what he i…
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