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Bing bang bongo 0

Dear Bradshaw,

            I just got home from my last lesson. It finished at 7:30pm and I was in time to buy some wine before the supermarket closed at 8. I rushed here because Francesca returns from the gym at 9pm and I wanted some time to write.

            After arriving, minutes ago, I quickly changed my clothes, put the wine bottles away, (except for one, which I opened), grabbed my computer, turned it on, and then Jimi started crying to be fed. Though Francesca usually feeds her I thought what-the-heck, fetched the metallic cat food container we keep in the cupboard, and then bing bang bongo buddy it slipped out of my hand, crashed to the floor, and every last nugget spilled out.

            As they scattered every which way, all I could think about was the writing time wasted and I cursed the day I was born, dropped to my knees, and then started scooping up handfuls and refilling the container. Why couldn’t I have dropped it when it was almost empty? I wondered. Murphy’s Law maybe? But then soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It was Jimi, munching the nuggets from the floor and, knowing cats rarely overeat, I thought, Why work harder than I have to?

            So I’m on the couch in the living room now, writing, while Jimi’s in the kitchen cleaning up the mess I made.

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