Leggings - the morning after and the night following...

20/7/15

There's been a lot of parties in the neighborhood recently. A queue formed at one door where a genial host has been handing out shorts.

It's amazing how many people will accept a drink. Tonight its about turning the truth around. A little group of supposedly drunken people attending the needs of one who has no control. He's down and nearly out. They stay in to make sure he's alright.

One of them stinks.  Simply horrible smell drifts about.  It's like a beast has got it, and messed all over the place.

I think perhaps this is genuine provable drink. They are trying to set me up. The clergy is happily waving his hands in the air. He loves to make sure someone he personally dislikes is sinful.

Does he understand the wages for sin (his sin) is eternal death?

The drunk moans, "That's how I feel about it too!" he mutters.

He's about half asleep. Every so often one of them tweaks his neck. or

his ear. Or some other bit of him. It's quite amusing for them to watch him squirm under one's feet. After all it's not allowed for them to do it publicly. Not any more. Soon however under the Hitler regime if things go well, it will be different.

Modern Britain, where money is scarce and spirits lower than decency. There is the threat that comes from the people.

No one bakes cake so much anymore.

2.15am

Now the Scottish music plays outside the building somewhere, the serious parties are in full swing. There is Scotch to be drunk... Smuggled Scotch... although they argue it ought to be called boot legging... ?