Cold front

Brighton. Down here for a couple of evenings with C before hitting the rails to Hamburg for a workshop on the politics of scenarios and futurity. Naturally I have acquired a stinking head-cold, and autumn is handing over to winter like a mule handing over to their handler. Insert your own tide-based metaphor here; I’m too bloody tired.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.