An image from June last year – a fallen flower head from an unidentified plant which has landed ‘against the grain’ on wooden planks.
The sun shone today but – strangely – I didn’t feel like going out. I know not why. Perhaps I feel tired of puddles and mud, or maybe I was in a contemplative mood satisfied by staying in.
It’s so hard to type at the moment; a touch-typist is always going to find it hard going with an index finger out of action. A door I had entered and exited a thousand times at work caught me out on Friday as aforementioned finger became almost sliced between door and door frame. I was told at the A&E department of the local hospital that I might have a deformed fingernail forever – a token of a memory of a job I am soon to leave behind.