247. the man who stole Thursdays.
hmmm…… is it Wednesday or Thursday ?
she asked of herself out loud, with furrowed brow.
it’s Friday he shouted across the office:
yes, he thought,
it was a masterstroke stealing Thursdays
– nobody’s going to miss the odd Thursday
it’s not like there’s anything on the telly
& Friday means fish for supper;
Saturday’s the best day of the week
and Monday – well, best not said.
But Thursday !!
Remember the times he tried it on a Sunday though ?
Holy shit !
– the nation collectively lying there under the duvet
listening snugly & smugly
to the impotent tinny tones of the alarm radio
& dreamily looking forward to a day chock full
of absolutely fuck-all
when Wham ! – the dawning realization – the full horror –
– (like that time you’d pissed the bed at the Ritz) –
It’s Monday !!! ……quick !
……. shit & shower & pronto like,
and just where did that weekend go ?