It seems the battle ground for the prize of saving my soul is the Highstreet.
Saturday's booming evangelists prevented any relaxed perusal of flower stall. Spoke to someone who left flowerless, retreating quieter realms.
And The Jehovahs are silently out in force again. So slightly creapy as they stand there, motionless and so very smartly dressed.
Just looking... using their eyes... their such beautifully evolved eyes.