Nelson Galaxy

Boy, is it windy today, or what? It is fairly rare to get any proper wind in that London. I was awoken to the sounds of my windows rattling and the front door banging, even though it was locked. I was soooo happy it was a Saturday so I could lie in my nice warm bed, listening to the battling elements outside. Then I realised it was Thursday and I had to go to work. Getting out of bed with the rain lashing the window I could acutely feel the freezing arctic draughts.

My morning walk quickly developed into an epic Himalayan trek. The rain was pouring into my face in waves and the freezing wind was battering me like a giant baseball bat. My hair became plastered to my face, obscuring my vision, making me step out in front of a lorry, and enormous selfish umbrellas kept poking me in the eye.

As my Converse All-Stars soaked up all the water in London and my trousers became aquatic I realised that I had made it to the Millennium Bridge. “Not far to go now Nelson.” Half way across the bridge I discovered I could not stand up. The wind was so strong it was determined to lift me off my feet and deposit me in the tidal torrents of the Thames. “If I go in I’m a gonna. I can’t swim.” Thankfully the railing protected me but I was battered and buffeted by the evil gales. As my eyes were being sandblasted I could just see small Asian children being knocked over and shocked grannies pirouetting as they were prematurely sent on their way to the great pie maker in the sky.

With drenched clothes, water logged shoes and crazy hair I arrived at the office.

“Is it windy outside dear?” asked the lavender-leaning receptionist.
“Just a bit,” I replied, “whilst walking over the bridge I thought I was going to get blown off.”
“Oh, dear boy,” he pronounced with pursed lips, his hands gesticulating flamboyantly, “I have to go all the way to Clapham Common for that.”