Under The Influence. (And the flightpath!)

The early morning British Airways flight from London to Brussels shook the victorian sash window and Paul sprouted from his reverie feeling quite green.  He wondered what the house‚Äôs original occupants would have made of the giant metal bird in the sky disturbing their sleep path. They surely would have bolted from their bed,  bloomers adrift, battling with the bedpan in the process, and berated the noisy blighter for blighting their reverie. Perhaps not.   They were, after all, rather practical folk in old Blighty during that most industrious of […]

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