I was in the library foyer this morning, waiting for the ritual opening of the doors. The novel I'm reading is one of those action-horror things, set in 50's Egypt. It's a very readable tale as it happens, but so odd. Did anyone back in the fifties run marathons in their middle age to keep fit? Sounds like a very modern habit.

The interplay is a bit cliched to my mind. The ubiquitous and ineviatable sultry woman (and eventual love interest, even if she does claim to be too busy - at least the love-interest hasn't claimed to have a headache so far), the old priest who knows everything but always makes an excuse not to reveal all, the nasty police chief, the arrogant king, and a ressurected demon having silent meetings to organise death and destruction along the Nile.

It's a ridiculous story but you can't help reading it. Written a bit like a Hollywood thriller but in text. Lots of movement, but a no-brainer. Ah. Library doors are opening. Page.... One hundred and ninety.... Right. Back to the daily grind....

Reunion of the Week

My computer has been released from hospital. Naturally I'm pleased it made a recovery, it means I'm back in the saddle so to speak, but it's left me with a very disquieting feeling. It works fine, no problem. It's just that it seems all unfamiliar. You could describe it as welcoming home a family member after surgery, only to find that person looking confused and not knowing who this happy person is. Wierd how machines generate personality in our minds. Disturbing when that machine has a different personality. I guess I'm anthropomorphising the computer a little, but don't we all?