I am recovering from looking into the eyes of sheer terror more times that I had imagined in a small passing of time this week.
After completing a significant amount of work in my week away whilst supposedly 'resting', the guilt ridden and quite honestly exhausted friend the laptop, mysteriously found itself immersed in a sticky liquid of peach juice one dark and quiet evening probably through overuse on one hand and under use abuse on the other.
With guilt therefore comes shame.
Please now imagine the scenario of being woken from a restful slumber of contentment, by being stared at hard in the face with a fast and tear heavy confessional from an distraughtly engulfed juice thrower, and then (much sooner rather ordinarily expected) having an outer body experience listening to the sounds of the self from a more neanderthal unexpected kind with sounds of gnou and mongolian throat singer wrapped up in choral rhapsody with pain and anguish.
I now diverge.
The next day was spent busying ourselves in an attempt to divert mayhem (and quite possibly a crime scene) that involved travelling across hot deserted plains in taxi's that should have been condemned many times over. That said, a different type of terror passed our eyes at scaring speeds and a sense of heightened danger clearly put everything else in perspective.
We are now home, all is well and the laptop has forgiven us of all our sins.
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