Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Grunge, bed and contrition.

1. I am squatting awkwardly, jammed between the door and a planter, reaching through the balcony rail with a trowel to scrape grunge out of the gutter. A man walking past hears me scraping away, looks up and smiles at my grimace. This makes me smile back.

2. I got my new bed. After three months of sleeping on the floor, I don't need to explain how glad I am to make up a bed with sheets, pillows and a duvet.

3. Overhearing the bed delivery man ringing the florist and asking her to send £20 worth of flowers to his girlfriend. 'I'm in trouble. Put "I'm sorry and I love you" on the card.'