adventures from an office chair

Let’s get out of this town. Pick a direction and let’s drive. We can pick up a scruffy stray at the lost dogs home (shall we call him Reginald?) and stick our heads out the open car window with him, tongue lose into the great unknown at a speed that makes our stomachs giddy. Turn the volume up on the car radio and sing along at the top of your lungs with me, because I’m burning baby, I’m bubbling over, can’t you feel my heat?
I’m tired of high end suits, high heels, high ambitions, high tea, high rises, high and mighty lies, highly strung executives being high on drugs and power. It’s high time. I’d much rather be high on life, see the high tide roll in on angry waves while you and I recline on sandy banks feeling the sun set on our skin and the horizon while we are waited on by a walrus butler in a waistcoat and monocle. We can get drunk on the breeze, raindrops in empty fields and strangers lips. And perhaps, we just might, in this world of bouncing clouds, knee high grass, tree choirs, river lullabies, bare feet, fresh bread, sneek-a-peek sunrays, stories and laughter with our racing open hearts, find ourselves whilst getting lost.