No bridge

Walking into work I noticed that someone had forgotten to put the quay and harbour back this morning but didn't take too much notice of it because I was still grumpy that I didn't have any coffee in me.

Up in the kitchen I looked out the window over the heads and watched the sail boats lazily freak out as speed boats and ferries attempted to ride through them. My head slowly turned to where the Bridge usually stands on its stone pillars like a giant anorexic Kate Moss retching for another line of coke that is the Cahill expressway.

But there was no Kate Moss. In her place was a giant bank of fog. It looked like Kate had vaporised and all that was left was a lingering cloud of lipstick and Louis Vuitton smoke.

Guess its time for that coffee.