Friday, 11 March 2011

A Faustian Day

Didn't quite sell my soul...

Morning bought a meeting in disguise. Telling tales of high chance and low expectations, which fooled the subordinates and paid handsomely. Then followed a nomadic day where much was achieved, but little gained. Such is the way. Seeds are laid and the patient man must wait: in the hope that the fruits will be sweet.

Back and forth, the junket took its toll; even though each task was needed and necessary. It ended with music though. So the dull aspects of the day were washed away with a torrent of tone and vibrancy. 

The time of recital draws near and the anticipation grows steadily.