14 years on from the original project, a new year of daily writings. another year of unconfirmed true stories.
November 3 Axed project's 'limited success'
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There are things that bind people together, blood, love and surplus stock. Joanna sits on the train station with her unsold sombreros, 14,000 of them and texts her sleeping partner. It is raining.
I was a fool for ever trusting a man in a shiny suit with matching socks, I wish I'd stayed well away. I certainly wish I'd been out fishing when God came around and gave out curiosity. That way I wouldn't be here, making such a discovery. I didn't know I would find you when I shoveled the dirt away, it would have been better if the spade had cut you in two like a root. Where are the rest of you hiding? This is where you hide when people come in is it? like potatoes ? This is no magic restaurant, the meals aren't made by pixies. It's you lot isn't it? I bet he isn't buying me a dolphin right now. This has been the worst day ever. I overhear this rant as I begin to tuck into my asparagus soup, whoever the woman is talking to doesn't reply. It crosses my mind that she may be practicing lines for a play. But if not, I hope they sort out their problems as this is the best asparagus soup I've ever tasted.
I watch until my Peugeot 307 becomes a dot on the horizon rubbing the side of my head where Louise first indicated her surprise at my news. As I walked I remember the unexpected swiftness of her fists, if she is at home when I get there I'm going to be very quiet.
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