Day 21

I take my place at the till and you tell me how much you are looking forward to X Factor. The twins are very bad and you laugh when you see them. They are bad, you say, very bad. Their haircuts! Your name is Ivy. I hear about the judges, bad too, as I pack my shopping and then say I don’t own a television. This is important information for you. What do I do without it? Books, radio and cups of tea. You look at my organic oakcakes, frown, and then tell me I could still catch the show online.

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Day 18

All the nice men grow moustaches in November, even if they find it exposing in surprising ways. I say, Do it, when you ask if you should tick my name off the list. You say, Do what? and I say, Do Do. It’s a good thing your hair is dark. I say, I’m going to meet someone downstairs, and you say, That’s fine, but don’t forget to come back. I say, I won’t and then I do, instead talking to my friend about books, jobs, hair, tissues, and when I return later you remember me and say, Go straight in.

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