winchester

Mr C got a text from a woman he didn't know, quarter to 11, asking if it was OK to talk. They talked. The woman kept asking him about his relationship to Essex. She didn't talk about Nietzsche at all. Connectivity was not achieved. Which had been the object of the exercise. Not exactly unlikely. Hard to pull off. In Winchester, people live within their own minds, they cannot cross the borders and enter the minds of folk from Eastleigh, or Southampton. Even Martyr Worthy is a challenge. It was a second successive Saturday night with Mr C. No talk of communism or capitalism this time. Just Bath Olivers and detox tea.