A Quiet Stretch of Water.........

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It's sweltering....hot enough in fact to delude myself into believing I was perhaps an Egyptian slave in a past lifetime, hands blistering on slabs of stone, their final resting place a marvel I could never conceive of. The disjointed sounds of Radio Pepito linger in the background, my eyes cannot detach themselves from colourful frescos and my nose seems preoccupied with the faint smell of epazote, lenguitas and pepicha..... I am, however, not in Mexico. The aircon in the office is down for the second day running, Radio Pepito is currently being streamed at 128kbps playing such Spanish classics as Interpol, Death Cab for Cutie and The Arcade Fire. I should really tell Gareth to stop eating so much Mexican, but at least my small office pool investment seems secure as it doesn't seem likely Michael will stop wearing those garish ties any day soon.... So 2005 has rushed upon us like....well....er.....actually there were moments last year I sincerely doubted the new year would ever show it's face, but the haze slowly began to clear and January shook itself firmly into focus. And I found myself on that last evening of 2004 asking questions of myself that had previously been unceremoniously dumped in the back closet. How do you tell your best-friend that the woman he has chosen to marry will break his heart? And not because she is a femme fatale or some equally caniving construct, but rather because she is beautiful and caring and intelligent but does not know herself and already I see the signs....... When the last seconds of the old year have turned to the first glimpses of the new year, and he sits head in hands, his tears carving grooves in his cheeks and I fear that he has begun to see the same signs..... And I realise that in the light of that terrible Tsunami, these things may seem unimportant. But just as quickly I realise that it is rather because of the Tsunami that these things are.

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