No inspiration for an eloquently written log, rambling on about nothing for four thousand characters espousing the beautifully made case that seemed to have difficulty staying in one piece. With questions rising from an opened cesspit of a split skull which eludes to an item in the wrong place at the wrong time, Whitby would be a fitting place celebrating with those of a darker persuasion, harking back to the gothic era of romance.
I am courting the idea that an item designed to travel and bring a change in thinking because of the story attached to it will struggle as it only fires the imagination of a few that are prepared to gather up things that are larger than the average sized pouch pocket unless of course it is soft and cuddly. From the picture stored on the electronics it certainly was not that, a trinket like this has a hard edge, well six of them, when in on piece and make it great for packing for a long journey, dreaming of exotic areas where events are staged, will it see out from the viewing platform of De Tour Eiffel or resting on a step with camera to ground and the Brandenburg Gate in the background.
As with many of the strange items wandering about the TB universe their orbit seems to stop circulating.
This stops because the real world abruptly slams home, breakfast, in 5, poached eggs on toast, going to have to leave this and the warm cosy. . . . .
Bye