6 June 1917 Wilfred Owen writes to his mother ‘I go down today. Where to?—Nobody knows. May be in the Hosp. Train for days.
Health: quite restored.
Mood: highest variety of jinks.
Weather: sub-tropical.
Time: 11 a.m.
Appearance: sun-boiled lobster
OH NO I went to get a toastie from a cafe near work but I was sat outside waiting and they suddenly got busy and I didn't want to say anything but I waited like 15 mins and nothing happened so I leaned around the door and made eye contact with the owner and she saw me and
Now presenting THE GUY WHO DIDN'T LIKE MUSICALS: WEST END - DIGITAL TICKET RENTAL! 🎟️ Sign up using the link below to get notified when this digital ticket goes on sale and all information on how to get your hands on it! 💙
https://t.co/rzBucwjUGr 🔗