
Four across, seven letters; act of taking water from well, perhaps also with pen and paper.

Four across, seven letters; act of taking water from well, perhaps also with pen and paper.

Reminds me of the old joke about the cross-eyed teacher: couldn’t control his pupils. Sorry

I would love to to read the paper -just once – without squinting. It’s sooooo far away. These long arms of mine are very handy at times (clever me, did I just make a pun?). It’s all very well cracking jokes but my eyesight’s suffering. And my back’s out from dragging these giant mitts around.

A little worse for wear, after a busy week. He wasn’t the only one. Felt obliged to wake the guy when the train terminated (payback for being such a good model). Not sure if he made it off the train before it shunted off into the terminus…

Collars turned up, cap peak pulled down over face, 3-day stubble. All very mysterious. Used to see a lot of this type of character in the late eighties and early nineties – men who look out at the world from behind the pages of the NME (or similar alternative/indie music press). Lots of frowning and introspection and peering through John-Lennon* spectactles.
*More recently sported by Harry Potter