My body tells me it is 4am even if the clocks say 7. I have had no sleep. We have travelled five and a half thousand miles a flying sardine can. By the time we leave Heathrow, London is enjoying Rush Hour. Home is still a long way away. Suddenly my great idea to drive doesn’t feel like such a winner.
Thankfully I can always fall back on the alarm call of driving over cats’ eyes.
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