Literature .. was much ado about nothing.
I am most impressed!! Excellent, Ant.
Heather
"Ant" wrote in message
...
The year was 1986. The company had reluctantly accepted my resignation,
and I had returned home after working my final week of notice. The rent
from my two lodgers was more than covering the mortgage of my small but
comfortable house. As I sat on the sofa, rolling a joint of the finest
Moroccan hashish, I reflected on the past eighteen years of my career.
The bizarre ceremony in the director's office, as we witnessed the
destruction by his cigarette lighter of the top-secret document in his
metal waste-paper bin. The incredulity of the ordnance factory clerk at
the thought that someone so young as myself could be the apparent
authority for the distribution of their product. The dry heat of the
Mediterranean, and the seedy bars of Malta's red-light district. The
narrow escape from the riots in Portugal. The contrast of the freezing
air of Scandinavia with the warm welcome we received from the people.
"A Kind of Blue" gently undulated on the turntable. The mellifluous
tones of Miles Davis' muted trumpet wafted through my head. "So what",
they whispered; "so what". I lay back and took a long toke. The rest of
my life could wait, for this was going to be a most enjoyable
sabbatical.
How little did I realise that the beginning of my second childhood was
just around the corner.
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