I awake, still stunned by the absurdity of the UK voting to leave Europe.
A quick Kipling break:
“WINDS of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro—
And what should they know of England who only England know?—
The poor little street-bred people that vapour and fume and brag,
They are lifting their heads in the stillness to yelp at the English Flag!”
What can I do to relieve my gloom? I know, look at dead fish.
I go down to the Toya fish harbor to get my prescription filled.
I buy an Octopus, which makes me feel better. It is an Octopus. Sometimes they are missing tentacles, which makes them Septopus or even Sexopus.