Saturday, 20 September 2014


(Ed: No sign of yer man today.  He's been holed up in his dark room ever since that delivery man came with a big box of stuff yesterday.  All I can hear is water running, silence, fissling of paper and from time to time an exclamation, although not in any language that I am familiar with.  No food or drink has entered (or left) the room all day.  Most likely he'll be back tomorrow as if nothing unusual has happened.  No explanation will be offered, of course - and none sought either, not after the last time.  In the meantime all I can lay my hands on is this print, which I retrieved from the bin when His Nibbs wasn't looking).

Wasted paper

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