London Diary





Got an early rise this morning, which, I'm afraid, is no longer among me habits, but as I woke up around half seven, in the very middle of a sexy dream, had to leave the basement to take an urgent pee, the toilets are outdoors in the backyard, been there it seems, unchanged, since they fucking built the place, and I sort of stepped out into this bright sunny dayglow... I decided to get dressed, stay up and get out.

Thought I might join Brian who has breakfast every morning around eight in the Silver Crown on Praed Street opposite Paddington Station, before commuting to his temporary debugging-job with some smalltime Ealing software-cie specializing in badly designed 'intranet'-disasters.

He came hurrying out, as did most of the other customers, just as I wanted to step in, must have been about 8.12 or .13, and he smiled, said, 'well Jan, 'mornin' to you too! just in time for The Crash!', it was only then that i noticed, and together we watched, the massive column of smoke piling up in the distance.

We joined in the general confused to-and-fro around and inside the station, eager to act, but of course there was nothing that one could do...