so after dealing with all the little r bull shit, I treat myself to a glass or two of really good wine. I knit and turn on my background noise.
I don’t really like torchwood but who can resist captain jack.
They get sucked into 1940, a jazz ballroom, he runs into … The man he took his name from, knowing he would die the next day. He told him kiss your girl, make the most of this night.
By the end the two of them our dancing, they kiss. He kisses himself.
That’s a scary thing, when you kiss someone and you see you in them. Not just you, but the very best you.
When he came back, he was depressed,aloof, he said “there were Angels dancing at the ritz” and poured himself a drink. They toasted to him, both of him.
This has happened a few times in my life and it has always ended badly. So now even all this time later, I have ripped down some walls and in many ways built others.
“It was war time and it was beautiful”