Sebulon

By sebrose

Doncaster station

I awoke the worse for wear. Eventually we went for a short walk up a small hill outside of Sheffield. By the time we were heading back Megan phoned to say she'd finished her swimming events for the day which saved me the torture of another day melting in the overheated heights of Ponds Forge swimming pool.

On the bus into town I got a call to tell me that our train to Doncaster had been cancelled and we'd need to get an earlier "replacement bus service". Bizarrely, it all went according to plan.

The train back passed in a blur. I dozed, probably dribbling slightly, while Megan read and did some maths.

I managed to get us back home without dozing off and it was straight to bed. Comatose. Log-like.

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