Wednesday. I arise, blearey eyed and sleep-starved, dragging foosteps and clumsy fingertips at my morning routine. But then from outside - what is this? A cheerful whistling, the crunch of footfall on gravel as the postman approaches. The letterbox rattles as a mornings treasures drop to the mat below. My heart sings, my mornings toil is forgotten as I scramble to retrieve them.
... but no. As postman departs and I stand alone in the hallway like a forgotten statue, clutching a bank statment and a Grazebox with empty eyes. Upstairs the cat meows excitedly as he savages a mouse of cloth, it's innards shredded like my hopes of reading the next installment of Hookjaw. All is darkness.
