Head Space Daily Words...

When I worked around Waterloo East, there would sometimes be a guy selling peacock feathers. Last Friday, he was trying to tickle our fancy outside Shepherd's Bush tube station (see Head Space Daily Image.) If you think about it, it must be a tough job being a peacock feather seller, as you are providing for an extremely niche market. On the way down to the local Co-Op for a loaf of bread, one may be struck by realisations such as - must buy some ketchup; or, perhaps I should get in some milk but how many of us are seriously hit by the thunderbolt that we need to buy some peacock feathers? If that thought has ever occurred to you, let me know and I will arrange for you to be sectioned. The guy always has a bundle of feathers. Either he never sells any, or there is some serious underground, battery peacock farming going on in London, where birds are bred for their ornate plumage. On second thoughts, twenty four peacock feathers for ten pounds seems like a real bargain. Count me in and don't forget the Bertolli and the bog roll...