Tuesday, December 02, 2003

One of the few small pleasures I experience on weekday mornings is walking through part of F Village for less than two minutes. It's like being in a fictitious Tess of the d'Urbervilles world, with small homely cottages, old brick walls covered in green and narrow streets. Then I turn the corner and I can see the spanking bright new building I work in and I'm reminded of where I really am and what time it is.


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