One Saturday morning I awoke wildly earlyan effect of drinking Muscadet the night before - and I collected the college newspapers from the post box. I wasn’t so fussed on the International Herald Tribune but I was fussed on The Guardian with the quick crossword. I sat in the common room on the ground floor, enjoying the late autumn sun streaming through the windows and opened the Review section. Who should walk in but Leo? The Universe was delivering! He looked alluring, dishevelled from getting out of bed, or so my feverish imagination told me.

What you up to this morning?” I asked.

I don’t know what to do with myself, I woke early. I can’t meditate any longer.” He flopped himself onto the sofa and there was Lilly following him through the door.

I thought the point of meditation was to get you at peace with yourself.”

It doesn’t cure everything.”

Stroke the cat, it might help.” Lilly had jumped onto his lap. “Do you use a mantra?”

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