thanks, dan

After the weekly debriefing session at The Hand In Hand I returned home to find that I was alone for the evening. Mrs Dave was out with "the girls" whilst First Born was at The Fat Cat in Ipswich.  God knows where Third Born was (somewhere in the aforementioned town).  So I decided that I should walk the 300 yards or so to the local hostelry at the end of my road - it overlooks the sea.  Despite my reservations about "The Chef's own batter" on the cod, I went with it. However, before entering the hostelry . . .

I looked up. Across the gibbous moon shot what I can only liken to a rocket ship - possibly captained by Dan Dare himself - leaving a huge grey  trail in its wake.  An emergency, I'm sure.  We'll all sleep better for knowing that Colonel Dare and Digby were racing off to the nearest reaches of the Universe to save our skins. Possibly from the Mekon himself (I'm beginning to sound Irish here, to be sure).

Not that long ago we walked back along the sea front and saw a Russian Satellite re-enter our atmosphere and burn up at almost exactly the same point.

I have no idea where the rocket ship took off from as the nearest airport is Stansted and that's miles away.  It must have been a rocket from a secret lair - planes don't leave that amount of a trail.

I'm glad I live in a science fiction world.  I feel so much safer.