It looked like it would SUPPORT him. Charlie, that was – Vera’s father. She and Bill had moved down to London, for work, from the Lincolnshire sticks. They’d managed to find a flat down there, but it only had one bedroom, so Charlie had to either make his bed on the HARD floor or on the sun bed that was residing in the living room. He chose the sun bed, BECAUSE, as he said, he could imagine himself being in Ibitha or somewhere.

Vera and Bill had just gone to bed when they heard a kind of shouting cum wailing noise coming from the living room. Vera went rushing into the living room wondering what on earth had happened to find Charlie still on the sun bed, but with his head on the ground and his legs up in the air. Being a tall man, this was quire a spectacle!

“How on earth did you manage to do that?” inquired Vera.

“Well I only tried to turn over in bed, and suddenly went arse over tip,” replied Charlie.


Down the lane live many lives
That only in my mind I know
Though names are so familiar
Many years have passed since I was in this place
And I know not what you do
Or what you ever did
But here I sit on hallowed ground
Brimming full of stories
My reverie is broken
By the sound of horses going home
Clip clop clip clop
A wave a smile
I know you but I do not know you
Horses are always the same
And one day soon
They will bear me home
At the setting of the sun
The setting of the sun