A comforting ghost

Oddly, considering I woke very early after a short night's sleep felt grateful to be alive, and full of cheer this morning. I was listening to the The End of the Affair, watching the countryside and railway sidings slip by, full of purple buddleia and yellow flowers.

I had a vision on the train. Out of nowhere Dave my Grandfather was sitting opposite me and holding my hand. I guess he must have held my hand once or twice as I had a sense memory of what his hand felt like, and he was the same sort of age as I am now. A weird, passing thing, that at the time seemed natural and comforting. It was so real that it brought a lump to my throat and I almost cried. Very odd, like seeing an unalarming ghost.

Into the agency, and again rather a thin day's work to the point that I'm not required to go tomorrow, though some work may be briefed in remotely - i.e. I can stay in bed an hour longer, and no commute.

The French Bloke gave a talk to his agency like a kind of stand-up, and seeming rather short changed that his staff did not heckle. Most of the agency left early for their summer beano, but despite being kindly asked along by the FB I declined.

Home fairly early, finishing the truly excellent The End of the Affair, and gratefully loafed on the gold sofa, looking forward to an early night. Calliope was stroked for 30 straight minutes and was very pleased to see me.

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