And I know what the darkness knows

I don't know why we turn the clocks back at the end of autumn. Why feed the night another hour when it'll be fat soon enough? When I walked back home I seemed I couldn't really see bright windows or streetlights, just the dark between them. I slept badly and the only good thing to come of it was a dream of travelling in time via mirrors, to a pier ballroom in the mid-eighties. I can't dance in real life - not sure if I was any better in sleep.

I borrowed Sayers' THE NINE TAILORS off a friend yesterday and that will be my book to see October out. I've not read Wimsey in thirty-five years. But the strangeness of this one lingered with me all that time, like the echo of a bell.