I woke at two and lay, staring at the ceiling and wondering how the hell someone had managed to sneak into our room and set up a fan. My sleep had been disturbed by it now, because it was making such a racket, but somehow I'd snored through the clatter as they brought it in. Why was it there anyway? It wasn't nearly warm enough to need a fan.
The more I thought about it, the crosser I began feeling. Was it the interfering local government that had done it? They're always coming up with schemes to nanny us, but this was surely a step too far. Or was it the neighbours who are moving in the New Year? Had they come in to dump some of the things they no longer need on us? .
But of course it was neither. I'd been disturbed by a higher authority. It was rain hurtling out of the sky in quantities and at speeds rarely ever seen - or heard. Well, bugger that - I'm too tired to think, and if you can't think, you can't write, so no posting today. The ironing basket beckons - there are worse ways to spend an hour or two.
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