Running late due to perfect flying conditions. 23rd Febrauary

Sorry! I'm running late due to perfect flying conditions. The landscape laid bare like best prime beef steak, marbled grey and blue.

I'm on New Cross station, looking for the temperature. 9 degrees. It won't be Spring until it reaches eleven. Dreaming of a signal box on the sea front at Dawlish, listening to the twitter of steel rails which snake like veins across Europe to the CCCP. Beaver skin coat, stained by your lying, warm against the chill.

Ha! you have the look of the Gdansk ship yard about you today.