I walk and can hear the glass crunching
it's like snow on the Screen when in the old days of the Queen it was all black and six two five lines white,
at least I think those figures are right, but I was only eight, stayed up 'til nine, read books under the blankets and read out the time by the light of my torch, tried a magic lantern once, but the pictures ruined the story for me.

So the numbers never had a chance of adding up to five or fifty five or anything really
my hands were tied by the binding on the books I read, I couldn't make head nor tail of reality, it was all one big adventure to me unless it was a romance novel which I turned to now and again when the pain of whatever it was bothered me and sometimes I just went for that long walk, took a longer time, too much Rip Van Winkle wine and woke before bed and time to read again,
eight is a fabulous age to discover
a new page in an
old book.