Unsinging hero

So to Preston Park this morning in the new car, but feeling heavy and ill and without a joyful song on my lips. Texted Bob on the train, wondering if he were okay after the Russian shenanigans in Salisbury.  To work, without incident, and apologising for being curt on Friday. Friendly folks to work with and a wee stroll by the canals at lunchtime. However, I felt more lively as the day went on. Anton called. Left slightly late, but walked home from Brighton station. Utterly happy to be home with Lorraine and boof onto the sofa.