Casebook 3: War with Russia - 1.1[index]
I have said before that a man needs a routine. But, without rest, a routine becomes a curse. Each day we roll the stone towards the mountain top. Each day we begin again with no relief. When these low thoughts return to me, and I find myself staring uneasily at the ceiling, I take it as a piece of advice, and book myself a holiday:
I stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower looking out across the painted face of Paris and took a deep, cool breath of air. I exhaled slowly, unclenched my neck and shoulders and let my mind become a blank canvas, cleared it of frustration and opened it to happier thoughts. The empty feeling when one has no problems to solve – I embraced it.
But my thoughts were vandalised by my wife's shrill squeaking.
“Look Labuland! Where did that little fellow pop up from?”
I turned towards her to see her pointing to the edge of the observation tower. Perched atop a railing was a monkey. He wore an Arab hat and a tiny embroidered waistcoat festooned with beads.