The brightness of this early morning screen makes me remove my reading glasses rub my eyes and think should i find the fridge for a ice cold coke-a-cola or simply sit here to drift across the thoughts plying through my mind. Drinking coke at this hour means i so luv the stuff or perhaps i am addicted to a drink my father once told me either cleaned rusty nails or rotted them completely quite which after all these years escapes me. Yet i am still here. Is 14...cans a week an addiction or perhaps the morning words are drifting in not the way i started to think, which i could say the magic of the screen is playing to see which of the three companions i carry around inside me have found their voice on this early Friday morning.
My work boots..blue uniform...flounder in the cellar which means i am away from the working saddle for more than a weekend...the first day of leave is always the hardest to fold into most of the day i spend clock watching thinking i should be here there in my tiny red van...the power of work holds a key to my life though coming to it's end..still holds that magic i feel towards the people whom say a thank you...to this last service my tiny red van supplies...my own thoughts across all these years since 1981..are that the internet..has saved the post office from drifting beneath the leaf mould to be talked about as ancient history...thus defunct...There is still one mature lady on my round whom still hand writes letters leaves them on a small table just inside her front door with a kit-Kat bar of chocolate...she is one of those old ladies whom makes life bareable in this mad crash modern world...on a selfish note i hope her smile and white coat remains until the day comes when i will not pull on working boots any longer....I do think tis but time for that red can..so to all whom pass this way have a good weekend....So Goeth