Purveyor of Tall Tales.


This is proving to be a strange week. I think I may have slipped a universe again.

So I’m walking to the station having put in some unpaid overtime because I have MUG etched on my forehead and really quite tired. However, I am damn sure – from the other looks he got – that I didn’t imagine the man sauntering up St. Martins Lane with a gold wireframe pyramid on top of his head.

Naturally he stopped in front of the comic shop. I mean why?

Then again I’m the one with words etched on my forehead.

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