I moved my glasses, the letters and page out of focus, watching
Deutsche Welle, a wonderful artist knitting necklaces from paper
rolled into thin strips, a little hunchback girl called names by other
kids, waking after surgery and crying, but bravely said she needs
to be cured as her spine is bent, I countered the effect by reading
the sparkling story of Terry Pratchett’s most popular imp Moist von
Lipwig who won the favour of Topsy Turvy and her dog, Mr Fusspot,
but the letters kept fading away so back to TV, then you complained
I am become a slave to mindless entertainment so I switched off the
set to clean the kitchen and read my book - come rain, come snow,
come hell or high water, I will squint if I can’t see the page –
maybe one day I will go see the eye-doctor again…
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