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Bucket & Broom in China

Page 3

by Steve Howrie


  * * *

  Miss Shoe–jar–way came back to see me today, and I had some good news for her. “I’ve found you a degree course in Actuarial Science!”

  “Wonderful!” she said, “You’re fantastic! What university is it?”

  “The U–ni–ver–si–ty of… Kent!” I said, spreading the words out for maximum effect.

  “Kent? Isn’t that in England?” she asked.

  “You bet it is!” I confirmed proudly.

  “But I want to go to America – it says that on my CV!”

  “America! Why on Earth would you want to go there? It’s full of Americans, and we all know what they’re like!”

  “No, I don’t think I do... enlighten me,” she said, sitting back in her chair.

  “Well, they’re brash, egocentric, think of nothing else but making a fast buck, play pathetic sports like ‘baseball’ and ‘basketball’, they have no manners, no dignity, and no culture. You really don’t know Americans, do you?” I taunted.

  “Oh, I know one,” she replied leaning forward in her chair, until she was almost in my face, “my FATHER!!”

  That would explain her perfect English then.

  Wednesday 29

  Julie’s doing a night shift, and I can’t sleep. Keep thinking what a waste of time this all is. Life I mean. We’re born, we live, we die. We sleep, we wake, we work. We eat, we crap, we piss. We love, we hate, we love to hate. What’s this all about? Where are we going? Why are we going there? Are we there yet? I miss Julie so much.

  Thursday 30

  Decided to better myself. Can’t seem to better anyone else, so this is the next step. I asked Julie if she’d mind if I joined the Writers’ Club.

  “Oh, babes,” she said, “I was hoping you would – you’ve got so much talent.”

  “Really? I have?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you have. We just have to find it.”

 

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