Time at the station comes to an end in two months. Prospective replacements have been walking past the desk in a state of hunger. Their eyes beady and raring to rip into the vacant post come September's close. One after the other, they walk in, sit down and start their sparkle about themselves. Through the glass and closed doors it's all obvious. Depression would set in if not for the fact that with a jettison, time aplenty will score itself into the fabric of noon and usher endeavours out from the sidelines and into the fore.
Even rest and hours beyond five a day at slumber moving toward a sane realm of reality.
Soon Van - Saturday, July 23, 2005 - 12:33
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