This is autobiographical in an odd way. Today something slightly strange happened to me. I’ll let the my sequels tell their own story, but I thought it was interesting how these thoughts occurred to me after the meeting, which led to the tales in these sequels.

I take the bus into town each day, just outside the bus station in town is a fish and chip shop where I sometimes buy my lunch. Whilst outside, snarfing my chips (Thick cut French Fries to our Colonial friends) a man approached me.

After the encounter, whilst walking to the library to do some work, each of these tales wrote themselves on the way, in the order recorded. I’ll leave a brief note to explain my thinking.