Five Hundred Eyes

Look, I'm really sorry about this ...

a sort-of-editorial-but-not-really written on a train out of Waverley Station

My apologies if some of you have seen some of this before, albeit in a slightly form, in various zine articles, letters and lavatory walls. I am, I'm afraid, something of a magpie, a literary miser - I hate to waste anything, no matter how inconsequential or worthless. And so this collection of ramblings, the Thoughts of Chairman Dave, incorporate much that is recycled, little that is new, and most that has accumulated in my notebook over the last year or so. Ah yes, the notebook ...

Sitting opposite me is a young lad in his late teens. We exchanged a few pleasantries as he got on, sorted out our luggage so asto afford maximum legroom, and settled down to endure the journey. Ay that stage he probably thought I was quite normal. I know I did.

And then I get out my notebook. A sudden spark of inspiration had just flashed across my trerminals and I needed to commit it to paper immediately. But you could see what he was thinking. Oh god, a train-spotter. Okay, so I've got the notebook, and the glasses. And the digital watch. But honestly folks, do I really look like a train-spotter?

Oh god.

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