THE GREAT FLOOD

As you all will know, this time next week none of us will be able to sit down in the tranquil environment of a public house, inhaling loads of passive smoke, even smoking, if that is our wish, and sharing stories over a pint or two. So, yesterday, I walked out determined to enjoy one last glorious Monday. Together with my friend, Warlock, we created the finest Radio 2 Drama-Comedy since Monty Python. I drank what's called quaffing ale; mildly alcoholic. Drank it slowly and so at five decided to visit some more friends up the road. Staying with the quaffing ale I managed to drink more than planned. Strolling back home, cooking a too hot curry, running a boiling bath, I idly switched on the telly and was gobsmacked: BBC NEWS WAS TELEVISING MY NOVEL IN PROGRESS: WARLORD. Sheffield was flooded, Bridlington was flooded, Hull was flooded, half the West Midlands was flooded, and the West Country. There was even an And Finally tagged on saying that Glastonbury was experiencing floods! I blinked, I drank coffee and still the pictures kept coming. So, what do I do now? I'm supposed to be selling this darned book. Are the powers that be looking inside my head? Anyway, went to bed and woke up this morning to realise it's real. According to the experts it seems this was just an unlucky meeting of several weather patterns. I say this is what it's going to be like from now on. Put simply, Britain becomes more like the sub-tropical Florida every day.