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Here Goes the Sun.


I missed today’s eclipse because I couldn’t get dry from the bath quick enough.

Trust me to miss a once-in-a-generation event due to shoddy towel action. It didn’t help that I got up later than intended, thanks to a late-night finish from last night’s gig. I didn’t get to bed until nearly 4am. I’m a dirty stop-out.

I told myself I had enough time to run a bath and jump in and out of it. I’d planned to walk to the field near my house with a flask of coffee, to observe the eclipse outdoors, whilst resisting the temptation to look at it directly. I remembered only too well the hell Marge Simpson went through when she did this. Who says cartoons can't be educational?

(Does anyone say this?)

I got into the bath at 9:05am. I was out by 9:12. This wasn’t early enough. I still wasn’t dry by 9:20. Try as I might, I couldn’t work up sufficient friction. Drying speed decreases the more urgently you do it.

In the end I made do with peering through my net curtains as I did it. This wasn’t without risk. There was a slim chance someone walking past would make out a barely perceptible outline of a frantically towelling-off me. No-one wants to see that, even if it's just once in a decade. From my perspective, the eclipse made my dingy flat marginally dingier. At least there’s not long to wait for the next one.


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