<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:34:33.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Moment</title><subtitle type='html'>One year.  Every day, one moment.  Nothing else.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114951377551460321</id><published>2006-06-05T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-05T06:22:55.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A disclaimer</title><content type='html'>No blogging for a while.  I'll recommence from whenever things sort themselves out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then,&lt;br /&gt;Chris...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114951377551460321?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114951377551460321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114951377551460321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114951377551460321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114951377551460321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/06/disclaimer.html' title='A disclaimer'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114924414230760010</id><published>2006-06-02T03:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T03:29:02.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Seventh</title><content type='html'>Struck by a revelation, I realised it must've been at least three months since I last heard from Emma. It's amazing how time can slip by so quickly and things can get left in its trail. I was, however, determined not to let this become one of those things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing the email, I realised I could talk to her about absolutely everything. And I did, let the whole thing come out all about being ill and all of the boredom and everything connected. Able to talk about it to her like I'm not to anybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that was cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114924414230760010?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114924414230760010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114924414230760010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114924414230760010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114924414230760010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/06/seventh_02.html' title='Seventh'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114924408953948302</id><published>2006-06-02T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-02T03:28:09.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sixth</title><content type='html'>Off to the cinema with Dad, for the first time in a very long time.  We used to do it quite often, but since I've been able to drive, it's been a less common thing.  With me too tired to do a complete return journey to Norwich, though, Dad took me along again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film was crap, but that was half the fun of it, because it felt like a little bit of the past all over again.  If there's one thing I can credit this illness with in a positive way, it's that it's brought me a bit closer to my family.  And that has to be a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114924408953948302?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114924408953948302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114924408953948302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114924408953948302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114924408953948302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/06/sixth.html' title='Sixth'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114900940110187214</id><published>2006-05-30T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-30T10:16:41.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fifth</title><content type='html'>Being driven back from the grandparents, we drove around a corner and out of nowhere came the most delicate and fragile looking rainbow I've ever seen.  Occassionally obscuring itself and reappearing against white cloud and sunglare, it was just a little piece of beauty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114900940110187214?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114900940110187214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114900940110187214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114900940110187214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114900940110187214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/05/fifth.html' title='Fifth'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114889941824437465</id><published>2006-05-29T03:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-29T03:43:38.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fourth</title><content type='html'>Walking through town, on that rarest of occassions - a bank holiday where the sun shines - I hear running footsteps behind me.  Moments later, I'm accosted by Mark and Robyn, both wearing the same nothing-changes-Hitler-Youth-shirts.  First time in over a month I've seen anyone that isn't a part of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's today's moment.  Knowing you aren't, actually, alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114889941824437465?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114889941824437465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114889941824437465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114889941824437465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114889941824437465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/05/fourth.html' title='Fourth'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114883389983281003</id><published>2006-05-28T09:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-28T09:31:39.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Third</title><content type='html'>Reading &lt;em&gt;The Cure of Souls&lt;/em&gt;, an idea came to me.  Homemade lemonade.  Why not?  Rinding lemons, and listening to the radio, and it all seemed very right.  And, for once, I think I may have been completely and entirely unique in the UK at that moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114883389983281003?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114883389983281003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114883389983281003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114883389983281003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114883389983281003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/05/third.html' title='Third'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114872880454607786</id><published>2006-05-27T04:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-27T04:20:04.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second</title><content type='html'>12:15am and feeling just about as trapped as I'd ever imagined was possible.  Thinking about getting away, and about the travelling from last year.  About Sarah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not gonna get to sleep like this - flick on the tv.  &lt;em&gt;The Truman Show&lt;/em&gt;.  If there was ever a perfect film for feeling like this, that's it.  He gets out, and, like every time I see it, there's a tear in my eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He gets out.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did it know it had to be so perfect?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114872880454607786?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114872880454607786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114872880454607786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114872880454607786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114872880454607786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/05/second.html' title='Second'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28781594.post-114864844328496487</id><published>2006-05-26T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-26T06:00:43.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First</title><content type='html'>It took three days from buying to actually get it into my cd-player.  With the rain pouring down out of the French windows, and things just feeling a bit calmer than usual, the first time the Unfinished Sympathy strings kick was an absolute killer.  Beautiful, really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28781594-114864844328496487?l=thesinglemoment.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/feeds/114864844328496487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28781594&amp;postID=114864844328496487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114864844328496487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28781594/posts/default/114864844328496487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thesinglemoment.blogspot.com/2006/05/first.html' title='First'/><author><name>Chris</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12654899480019659547</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v504/Arlequino/IMG_0157.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
