Brechtian was the brief for today. Just the thing to go with your Weetabix for breakfast… 😉

Polished this one off first thing because I have lots on today. Called it “Twenty-Three”. A twenty-three year old version of a person in conversation with a sixty-five year old version of the same person realises too late that when a woman told them to count sea-shells they figured out what she really meant too late and now they’re stuck endlessly counting…

One… Two… Three…

CURTAIN.