Friday, 6 April 2012
I passed by the clutch of houses this morning: there is a weird air of impending endness. Lorries are gathering, the roads are sectioned off, signs are pasted on doors warning of asbestos. I had a chat with the local road sweeper and another on looker, like myself, curious to know when the deed was going to start.
The man knew: 8.00am Monday, end of the day . . . all done he said.