Friday Half Term

Parisian walking her dog off the Champs Elysee

Concluding the week, it is Friday.  The receptionist watches the minutes tick backwards from 3:45PM.  I plunk about on my new Macbook listening to the rain hit the glass sky-roof..  The dog sleeps by the door (earlier he barks at some dude - bad, Rusty). The only people doing anything are Ralph & Russo whose army of seamstresses and models keep to their unusual hours.  Today begins the kids' half-term break : two weeks, no school.  (Working) parents across Southwest London exhale in a collective groan.

Eitan shows Sonnet and me a glass of liquid.
Me: "What's up?"
Eitan: "The oil is separated from the water."
Me: "Sciences?"
Eitan: "I am just double checking it is so."