I have bin expecting you
Imagine the most intense horror you could ever conceive of. Multiply said horror by inconceivable amounts. Then collapse in a crumpled heap
of melancholy and limbs.
It’s gone! There I was, planning to write an extended piece about macro-litter and inanimate submersible objects protesting for their civil rights. Then I saw it. Water. Nothing out of the ordinary. No aquatic refuse receptacles. Just water.
I’m duly gutted. That wheelie bin was in the lake before the beginning of term. Weeks passed and still no one had removed it. I wanted to unravel its soggy enigma. How did it get there? What was its purpose? Did it hold the answer to the eternal question? Now I’ll never know. I could soil myself in exasperation.
Perhaps it’s for the best. I may not have liked the answers, had I unravelled them.
