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Partial Sea View

I'm lying in bed in our Brighton cottage, looking out to sea.

Far out is one lone fishing boat with its light fluttering and flickering like the last gasp of a candle or a dying Tinkerbell starved of belief.

It's like looking out into a distant century.

What is there to catch in the English Channel now beyond turds and tampons?

Where are we now when some of us are programming autobot spam for a living and some are trawling nets by gaslight.

Phishing and fishing...

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