I am writing this some 36,000ft above the South China Sea. My watch is on Auckland time, my body clock on Hong Kong time - an adjustment achieved by a three day stopover - and the iPad on which I am writing this, declares it to be 23:27, though God only knows where. All three, however, agree a) that it is dark, and b) that sleep appears to be over for the night. This is a view shared by several other people who keep getting up and walking about (one man in a distinctive, hooped polo shirt, has been into the toilet across from me so many times that I am beginning to have serious concerns for his prostate; what propels the lady in the red jumper in the same direction with similar frequency, I don't dare to speculate.
Reading that back, it occurs to me that writing style has been severely contaminated by the two chapters of "Hard Times" that I've just read. Thorry about that, Thquire. I thall thign off at onthe.