‘The telex machine is kept so clean as it types to a waiting world.’
Perhaps you too greet each new week with the line ‘I don’t like Mondays’ as you career headlong into another 60 hours of deadlines, meetings and tube delays all to the soundtrack of screaming sirens.
Escape comes close on a Saturday when you voluntarily re-join the masses; this time to shop, eat and drink away the stresses of the previous five days. Sirens and flashing blue lights are replaced with, well, sirens and flashing blue lights, this time on a dance floor only slightly more spacious than a rush hour train station platform.
It’s not until Sunday that you allow yourself the luxury of lying lifeless on the sofa; one eye on the tv, one on yesterday’s unopened bag of retail therapy.
Then you need to have a read of this man’s story as he tells of taking his blackened lungs from London to the Lakes. He is left breathless, but in a far more positive way and see how he begins to use phrases unheard of in the working week; “exhilarating” and “I couldn't stop laughing.”
Go on, have a read and follow him on his journey.