ollyp

Each evening I potter home from Ladbroke Grove, usually with my head in a book. Tonight it was the French edition of Neil Gaiman's Stardust. I didn't quite have the energy for French so picked up a London Lite free paper outside the Tube.

Getting off to change lines at Hammersmith, I passed a knot of free paper distributors. The fact that I already had a paper under my arm warded them off like a talisman. Except...

The London Lite guys gave me a cheery smile. Those brandishing The London Paper stared at me really intently. I... think they were remembering my face.

Paranoid? Probably. But I'm going to shave tomorrow, and maybe wear a hat.

You can't be too careful.