Grafting

I ventured to the front of the well-built house, knocked and stood back as the Coelyn came to the door. "What do you want?" I ventured. I got told; Coelyn had come to the door to see who it was which I must admit did seem reasonable.

Eh. No, I dreamt that wrong.

Try this;

The rain pattered on the window oblivious to what I was doing. Billy Liar punked loudly at me from hisSpace somewhere in nowhere land; down a wire from Edinburgh. Punk in Edinburgh? I can hardly believe it. Stornoway, yes.

There's a knock at the door and I hastily commit Mr Liar to hisSpace and not mine. The Coelyns stroll purposefully into my dark little roomette. I think I'll post a snap of Coelyn soon - the one with his 12x14 accordion - or whatever it is.

Sorry, got all the dreams mixed up. Last nights and last weeks have got confused. Or was it yesterday? No idea. Come back Friday and I'll try again.