When I looked out of my bedroom window earlier I was very surprised to see my old friend (and, sometimes, arch enemy, irritating neighbour or general scapegoat) the Lamp-post glowing faintly.
It was the middle of the day so I did a double take, puzzled as to why his light was on. Then I realised it wasn’t – it was just that the day was super bright and the sun was hitting the bulb in such a way as to make it appear to be lit up.
I smiled to myself and went back to work. But my vocal tics were clearly not going to leave it there – they never miss an opportunity to goad the lamp-post:
“Lamp-post, is the sun keeping you up?”
“Lamp-post, blindfold yourself with a bin bag.”
“Lamp-post, stop getting the sun to do all the hard work.”
“Lamp-post, shall I get you sunglasses for Christmas?”
The lamp-post didn’t answer – he just stood there absorbing the wintry rays and the flurry of tics.
“Peace on earth and good biscuits to all bears.”