The surreal and the prosaic

Well what a day.

UK temperatures in the thirties? – Surreal.

Driving to Heathrow? – Prosaic.

Air-conditioning in my car barely able to keep up? – Prosaic.

Standing in arrivals hall and suddenly confronted with the image of a beautiful lady dressed head to foot in orange-sherbet silk being escorted to a grand-piano by a security guard … she sits down and starts playing Chariots of Fire whilst cameras from BBC, and various other Olympic-fuelled media, whir. One tune and then it’s all over – our famous (I assume) vision floats away again on the arm of the black-clad security guy. The airport – having temporarily been suspended in la-la land – returns to the business of people coming and going.

Definitely surreal.



Julia arrives back from France after a fabulous week away. Priceless!


Stuck in traffic jam for an hour in the sweltering heat, my air-conditioning having finally given up the ghost?

Definitely prosaic.



4 Responses to The surreal and the prosaic

  1. With the Olympics about to begin in London I’m sure the surreal quotient will skyrocket.

    I hosted a ‘Chariots of Fire’ movie night last night with friends…this same group is getting together again on Friday to watch the Olympic opening ceremonies. What will be surreal is how much popcorn we’ll go through during the multi-hour telecast.

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