Piles

I'd allowed a bit of time after my perambulations to call in at Halcyon Books. Well, it looked very promising from the outside. I had taken a sudden fancy to a bit of Pepys, who of course had chronicled a tumultuous period in our history. I've been thinking of travelling there myself and I certainly haven't given up on that quest, though I've already drawn the obvious conclusion that time travel will never be possible. If it was to be invented some time hence we'd know about it from all the bloody time travellers who would be coming to visit us. People you don't want to meet - your great great great grandchildren for instance. They'd probably want to stay for tea - and they'd be teetotallers who would disapprove of my lifestyle. And quite rightly, as they'd probably have a photocopy of my death certificate to upbraid me with. I'd show them the bloody door, so I would. Then, donning my justacorps, I'd be off to meet Samuel and take a stroll round the Nautical College.