For Want Of A Better World

There are days when a melody flies up out of nowhere and nestles itself safely somewhere in the confines of your ears. Once there, the tenacious little munchkin refuses to settle down, and pretty much dictates the mood and tempo of the rest of your day. There’s no earthly reason for gloom, drear and dullness, when the beat keeps the day alive. Soon enough, a lonely hand seeks the company of another, and two otherwise square feet search for a partner at 100 beats per minute. The search, like a rocky hillock in the middle of a desert, does not bear fruit. But a solitary dancer is the talk of the town, and who needs a partner when stifled giggles and suddenly hushed conversations are there to egg you on? In some time, other tasks pale in comparison to the zeal and perseverance needed for that sound to stay where it was. Work gets done, ugliness erased and insecurities awash when no one cares enough to give them a second thought. As long as that beat goes on, it’s all going to be okay...

It could be the first sign of the morning, It could be the brightest ray at noon, Could even be the blackest spot of night, But whenever it may start, There's no telling when the storm will end. It may be a gale, cold and swift, It may be the sun; quiet, complete, It may be the clouds, humbled and effete, Nature may cull it as it may, There's no telling when the storm will end. Stay inside where it's safe and warm, Carry an umbrella, if you must go, Tread lightly, and be back soon, The night is unforgiving and, There's no telling when the storm will end.

(The Scene: An evening in a regular London pub. The bar isn’t crowded, there are only two couples in the booths. Two men at the bar, friends by the look of it. One drinking a pint of dark beer) Man 1 : So Lucy called. Said she was gonna pack all of her stuff and head back to her mum’s. Her life’s too precious to spend livin’ with a waster, she says. Man 2 : All her stuff? Well that’s okay, then. Give her a couple of days’ head start to get her suitcases sorted before you go apologizing. Man 1 : (Chuckles)  Nah, she’ll come around sooner than that. She’s not a bad bird, that one. Think I may actually settle down with her. Man 2 : Yeah? Man 1 : Yeah, yeah, y’know… it’s not a bad idea, really. I mean, I could always quit this job and find one that pays more. She won’t half mind marrying me, I know that. Yeah… maybe I could just get this bird for keepers. Man 2 : Pays more, eh? And where exactly do you propose to find such gainful employment, old boy? Man...