41 hours

A red corset, a clarinet, on a floor that bows and bounces with each step. The sun comes down over circus tents.

Red hair, full pub. Dancing till the early hours. Walking in circles, following the boys.

Sun rising over the Seven Dials. Clean, crisp morning air. Walking home to bird song before the chill sets in.

The man in Richer Sounds who tells you facts you don't need to hear. Smiling into your eyes as if imparting special knowledge.

And rest those tired eyes.

A brief walk, some more talk and Indian takeaway to fill you up.

Sleep comes quickly, all worn out, until the morning brings bright light through the blinds.

And all the time, my grin won't stop.