Sleep, Tom, Signs

My throat hurt indescribably for less than 24 hours, then I slept about 15 out of the next 24. Now a bit snuffly, a bit tired, but sort of ok. I liked having permission to spend a lot of time in bed, and let go some of the activity of the week. This on the back of a challenging visit to my mother's.

On the way home on the train, in ecstasy listening to Tom Waits' Real Gone on the MP3

I'm gonna take the sins of my father

I'm gonna take the sins of my mother

I'm gonna take the sins of my brother

down to the pond

I'm gonna wash them...

til the water runs clear

Driving home in the near dark today, a red temporary traffic light shines out, above a red sign with white lettering saying when red light shows wait here, and one of those white arrows on a blue background to tell you to go round the obstacle not plough straight into it. Reflecting the red of the traffic light. The wet road, the stillness of stopping after hurtling along, and these traffic signs shining out their meanings to whoever happens to be there to see them. Something about that blue and that red that excite me today exactly as they did as a child being driven at night, or on winter's afternoons.