Into work early wearing a crisp white shirt. The heatwave continues. I have been writing material for women who have breast cancer most of the week and although this is interesting it is something of a slogging copy job, and quite saddening subject matter.

Instead of a swim this lunchtime, I slid off for lunch at the riverside with Liz. Over some nice fishcakes we discussed creative writing. She is very keen to get going and have some advice. I have set her the exercise of describing the same event five times, using the different senses. I gave her the homework of reading Perfume by Patrick Suskind, a book which forefronts a sense (the olfactory) more than any other I can think of.

Back to work and one of my bosses told me to work at home tomorrow as I have thousands of words of copy to edit and write.

Had a chat with the Chairman and we got to talking about meditation. He said when he was doing martial arts, which he did to a formidable standard, he was taught to envisage a still mountain pool reflecting a mountain. The mind had to remain unrippled even in the middle of fighty stuff.

Off after work to meet Mad Dog in the Auberge at Waterloo. Had a sensible night walking off throught the back streets of the South Bank to Doggetts to play some pool. I worked hard at not attaching myself to the outcome of actually winning, and envisioned a mountain reflected in a mountain pool to reflect my steely resolve and unruffled calm. Got thrashed by Mad Dog as usual.

Then over the River to lurk in Fleet Street for a bit having several heart to hearts. Had a cheeky beer in the Cheshire Cheese too (built 1667) before drifting off for a quick curry. Then the call of the seagull grew strong in me and after snoozing on the train I was back in Brighton.

Here is a picture I took on the tube looking like the entrance to a black cathedral.