Connectivity

[desperance]

Plugged into the world again, I am. Not this one, the talky-world out there. My phone works. A nice man came and was bewildered, poked at wires, said there was something wrong there, right enough; then he went round the corner and dug up the street, and found a corroded wire. Just came apart in my hands, guv, he said. So he replaced it, and now I can talk again, if I could think of anyone I wanted to be talking to. My agent, perhaps; but it's lunchtime, the man's allowed to eat. Later.

I shall go into town and read proofs. I'm tired of the house.