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Formica I think and false mahoginy (sp?) and someone's keys, must be mine, sprawled on my eyesight. That is to say this wood-thing that is to say in this yellow. Glare. Light-bulb. Waah! too bright is the light and my pupils shrink, they are a mammals, not to be looking at it. Something moved, it did!, maybe it was me, or a shadow, likely, and a printer says to me, chug, beige, of sorts, yes you can be tomorrow, you can, honest, talk. (sorry for the double -post, and too for my lack of visual detail, just getting into this mode of rhetoric, blind as a bat me) Best Dave