Before you ask - my services were "no longer required" at the Charity Shop. Tsk - I'm really not sure why I'm expected to work for no pay, no benefits and have to put up with the hoi polloi anyway.
So, what to do? Well, before I go a temping in the autumn, I think that I'm going to undertake some adult education. A few weeks ago, whilst browsing in the library I noticed that they were running some creative writing sessions and as I'm a semi-regular blogger, I thought I'd give it a whirl.
The first session was this afternoon. Our tutor's called Marjorie and she's a seasoned Mills and Boon author. She lives, along with her terrapin, Timothy, in a large Victorian villa in the vicinity of the High Street. She's a small, darting woman with tiny blue eyes, white hair and a slash of crimson where her mouth used to be. That said, don't let her appearance fool you - she's as sharp as a tack and saucy as a sailor. For example, she was talking about how she writes her 'love scenes' when a nearby vagrant looked up from his battered copy of The People's Friend and began to protest.
"Good Sir," she said "literary endeavours should never be quenched! Take your Sports Direct bag elsewhere and find happiness in the mire!"
"You're talking total bollocks lady." he retorted and exited, not followed by a bear.
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