The Apocalypse Codex

Yesterday I started reading the latest Charles Stross, and only stopped at midnight, when I was so exhausted that my chin felt inexplicably wrong, before falling into a dreamless sleep that went an hour and change past my alarm.

Befuddled and bedraggled, I ran for four miles, got home and as soon as I had stopped sweating, picked up the book and carried on reading until I was done.

Danger Lunch

Today I stayed at the office for lunch and ate pasta, to minimise the chances of choking to death on my own. However, the pasta I had was full of stringy green shoots that kept getting stuck in my craw, so I almost choked to death (or boked all over my workmates) instead. Seems like there's nothing so threatening as food.

Night Terrors

As I walked down the hallway to the lifts this evening, I heard a ghastly screech. I looked up, to see the old man who lives in the flat closest to the bank of lifts, sat against the gate of his flat, his torso bare, holding a violin and sawing at it in time to music spilling from a radio somewhere behind him. I nodded at him and fled.

Downstairs, a very old man, shrunken and covered in inept, prison tattoos, was fighting with a newspaper in one of the alcoves. It flapped across the floor and reared up at him as he spun around it, stamping away. This was a very strange evening.