On Wednesday, I left a poetry reading high on words. I was determined to become inspired by every small thing in my path.
I heard a sneeze coming from the dark room behind me. I should have probably hightailed it. Instead, I peered back into the dark and as my eyes adjusted I noticed the small curled up mounds of people all over the floor.
I cycled home, sure of one thing. That barman was right about the "Yoga Fuckers".