Bovary

Door

Tension is mounting among the cohort as a result of the tutors’ contradictory instructions with regards to our unit briefs, i.e. the stuff we have to do that gets marked. No one knows what to do. Everyone is talking about it. The WhatsApp group is aflame with concern. ‘Do you know what we have to do now?’, ‘I’m so lost’, ‘Rofl lol nvm’.

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.

When I get asked if I know what’s going on I say ‘no’ and look as if I am outraged but really I am thinking about the gaping hole at the back of the house and counting down the days until our new doors arrive.

What if a garden-jumper were to come in the dead of night and turn off the boiler, that just so happens to be positioned at the mouth of our cave-home like a throbbing cold sore, and I would be unable to turn it back on again because we have been barricaded inside by the builders.

Sometimes the thought of getting murdered by an intruder troubles me but boiler-meddling is my principal concern.

I’ve taken doors for granted in the past. I do really like doors.

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