Wednesday 21st July
This morning I made my way across a battle field of tiny plastic people who lie on their backs, still and lifeless, with their arms spread; a scene of devastation on the carpet. I call it a Plastic Massacre. It is difficult to pick your way across a plastic people minefield, when your territory is more like a corridor than a room. Another day I caught baby sister trying to bite the head off Plastic Jesus. It’s a dangerous world out there for the plastics.
This afternoon I completed a fifty minute walk on baking hot tarmac through soulless suburbia, with pushchair, baby and two loads of laundry. Arrived at the launderette and it was shut; not happy. Fifty minute walk home again. On this occasion The Launderette Equation produces a result of; not worth it.
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