Egg

As in fallen out of a swan’s nest. Glimpsed over the bridge in Leatherhead.

Some things just don’t hatch. Others do. We went out to a vegan tasting evening after work. Beautiful food, they really cracked it. Great evening and not a dairy product in sight.

My information about The Flying Scotsman passing through Woking late at night however turned out to be false. I stood there for half an hour on the bridge and all I saw was the 22.47 to Basingstoke. Or something. No billowing clouds of white, no Betjamenesque lyrics about the golden age of steam, just the drug dealers in Morrisons car park and a faint whiff of urine.

But I like the egg image. I can feel something getting ready to burst out of its shell...my future beckons ...