July 28th – If Saturday’s weather had been poor, on Sunday it was atrocious – the rain just didn’t stop all day. I was low, everything was on top of me and I’d had enough. I went up Walsall Wood to see friend who was out then I called; I went to pick up a takeaway. They were closed for summer holidays.
I dripped and squelched back to Brownhills. I was wet. The town was wet. Everything was wrong.
This was certainly a lost weekend. But maybe not quite as bad as Lloyd Cole’s. At least there was no hotel bill…
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