The alarm dragging him slowly from sleep. Hit the snooze button. Relax. But ten minutes later there it is again, the programmed, electronic buzz that, every day, forces him from sleep into semi-consciousness. Throw back the covers. It's the only way to be sure that seductive snooze button remains unpushed. It's grey again. The day greets him with about as much enthusiasm as he feels standing up, looking through the window at a land bathed in its winter dulness, and he walks blearily