The gathering storm

The Face of Despair

The blissful, halcyon days of my self-imposed exile from work are fast approaching their end. In a few weeks, I shall return to the not-quite-as-wonderful world of labour, toiling five days out of seven – and possibly more when the occasion calls for it – just to make enough money to support my insatiable profligacy. My silence over the past week is due in part to my having to rush this way and that, collecting documents and preparing the paperwork needed before I once more assume the crushing yoke of white-collar servitude.

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