Since I bust my legs down The Works I's been spending my mornings blowing dead air into warm harp by the Central Library. Bust my heart too truth be told. Lost everything now I has. Still; once I's got enough coin I has a mild and Clark's pie in The Vulcan. And; more often than not, I ends up chatting to the old girls warming themselves up before they goes and shelters under the bridge by The Glastonbury. Clink Hotel across the road gets noisy in the afternoon so I wanders back into town for a bit of a stretch and goes and cadges a cup of tea from Astey's before I heads back down Bute to the Sally for warm meal and early bunk. Really, I doesn't have time to feel sad. Not me. Trick I finds is to forget past and stick to what I knows. Needs change of shoes mind. Probably find some come Sunday in box by side of hostel door.
