Asked to dispose of a chair with a wobbly leg, I set off.
Not my wobbly leg, I should add, but that of the chair. And down the road to the tip, burdened by my four-legged friend, I began to tire a little.
But where was I to lay my weary buttock?
The universe had sent me a gift. Four legs are better than two, and I parked myself, an umpire atop my Wimbledon seat, kerbside, surveying rallies of vehicles, their drivers peering quizzically askance.
A short breather, and once more becoming the six-legged beast, I set on my way.
One more sedate experience, cross-legged beside the number 7 bus, and the tip was in site.
But this outing got me thinking. Which was it tiring me, chair or walk?
Sans chair, I had no choice but to walk. With chair I could take regular breaks. Wasn’t it worth one’s while to always carry a chair?
So, I have resolved to leave a chair always in the porch, and consider its worth each time I exit the house.
But what has all this to do with crosswords?
Dear solver, don’t you want to suffer a bit? Why pick up the easiest chair that won’t challenge you? And isn’t it more glorious having earned your rest, feet sore and blistered?
I shall continue to torture. I shall continue to hand you a chair, and send you from the comfort of your home, out onto the cruel streets. Walk, solver, walk! I am your chair. And if you don’t like it, well, just keep moving – the council tip is only around the next corner…