But I want my Lightening McQueen socks....."Come on. Any socks will do. Move it. Let's go. Where's your other shoe?" Another morning in just before the bell. She gave herself a gold star and took off into the rain. A piece of plexi for a picture frame sat in the recycling. Inspecting it, yes, it was just the right size to fit the recently broken frame at home. A nice piece of floral wrapping paper--perfect for the collage. She'd cut it up and make it part of the theme. Further on, someone had disposed of an Apple Mac screen by placing it on top of the parking ticket dispenser and put a handy step ladder underneath it. Ha ha. She took the step ladder too. A good score for so early in the morning.
Her entire flat was a monument to found furniture. A Swiss wooden curio with hexagonal paned glass doors rested on top of the 1950's Retro G-plan teak sideboard. They didn't really match , but they were both quality. They matched in that way. A friend had phoned her to tell her she'd seen its twin in an antique shop in Dorset selling for four hundred pounds. She sometimes looked at the thing thinking of the four hundred pounds and thinking of her friend who she hadn't seen lately. It only contained liquor and videos, out of date passports, instructions on how to assemble a lego watch, a voters card for Illinois. Nothing pressingly important.
She had spent out on the sofabed. It was fifty quid from Gumtree. It was beige, so it still looked new. She had definitely had her fifty quid out of it. How many people had slept on that bed? Paying guests of The Bloomsbury Bullet: Japanese girls on week intensives, business men fiddling their hotel receipts, LSE students awaiting their dorm allocations, house swappers, old friends and friends of friends and daughters of old friends friends. Just about everybody had a reason to stay. Sometimes it was to Big Ben the week away and sometimes it was to actually visit her.
Her entire flat was a monument to found furniture. A Swiss wooden curio with hexagonal paned glass doors rested on top of the 1950's Retro G-plan teak sideboard. They didn't really match , but they were both quality. They matched in that way. A friend had phoned her to tell her she'd seen its twin in an antique shop in Dorset selling for four hundred pounds. She sometimes looked at the thing thinking of the four hundred pounds and thinking of her friend who she hadn't seen lately. It only contained liquor and videos, out of date passports, instructions on how to assemble a lego watch, a voters card for Illinois. Nothing pressingly important.
She had spent out on the sofabed. It was fifty quid from Gumtree. It was beige, so it still looked new. She had definitely had her fifty quid out of it. How many people had slept on that bed? Paying guests of The Bloomsbury Bullet: Japanese girls on week intensives, business men fiddling their hotel receipts, LSE students awaiting their dorm allocations, house swappers, old friends and friends of friends and daughters of old friends friends. Just about everybody had a reason to stay. Sometimes it was to Big Ben the week away and sometimes it was to actually visit her.
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