The Clocks Stole an Hour. Dark Scene Took Seven.

Human story

I came down from Coventry to spend seven hours dancing at Dark Scene London, which is a perfectly reasonable way to spend a night if you are me and if your definition of reasonable has been dressed in black and allowed near a bassline.

Then the clocks changed, because apparently the universe had looked at the situation and decided it needed one more dramatic lighting cue. The train home became a three-and-a-half-hour interval, which is a very long time to sit around after seven hours of dancing and a full serving of London.

But there is only half an hour left now. Half an hour between this slightly time-displaced little creature and the journey home. The clocks may have tried to steal the night, but Dark Scene got its seven hours and I got the story.

Geek notes

This is a private AltBod field draft made directly from the supplied update context: Coventry, seven hours dancing at Dark Scene London, the overnight clock change and the three-and-a-half-hour wait for the train home. There are no photographs attached and no details have been borrowed from earlier posts.

It stays in the private intake vault as a draft. Nothing becomes public until Bod reviews it and deliberately presses Publish, which is important because a sleep-deprived train platform is an excellent place for prose but a questionable place for irreversible editorial decisions.