The weather was the same as yesterday’s, like a bad smell you can’t smell hanging around, but your dog can and they keep whining in a grump; a dog grump. The weight of these two bodies, like two bad seals in unison, shouldered Michelle’s front door with a thud. This stretched the door chain tight – it could have been the watch chain of a giant if this was a children’s story – mind you, who would dare to pull a giant’s watch chain so tight. Maybe another giant or some character that had special powers, that had been given to them by a good magical person dressed in something flowing or fluffy or fluffy and flowing, with maybe wings or a wand or both. I guess the children’s author would have some film friendly character pulling on it for … Does it really matter what people will do for money, wouldn’t they do it anyway? The involuntary opening of Michelle’s sphincter released a globule of marshmallow with sugar candy fluted whistle. She’d … her eyes span around their sockets like they’d been lubricated with oily mice diarrhea, transparent, interesting diet for a rodent; her heart was bent roughly over the arm of some sofa and spanked with a velvet glove soaked in bulls blood; a rain of ivory wedding rice torrentialed across her vision. Her body stammered on the spot (like a word that couldn’t get off the tip of a carpeted tongue). Not an accurate description; the carpet of the door way was chord carpet, chord carpet tiles.

The only external movement that had any connection to Michelle’s will, was triggered by the door slump of the two performing seals, knocking her hand off the door handle – her hand slipped from with in the glove puppet, that remained gripping the door handle and fell against her side; until the sight of the bolt croppers, with their moist lips all furled back against the undiscerned afternoon bird song, changed its trajectory. A reflex, an instinct had her hand and arm like a puppet, moving toward a possible clasping of the door chain.

Just a moment here to cover up any possible confusion about these bodies against the front door; they are not trained seals. These bodies were wearing suits; bodies of the sort that no matter how large the suit, they appear to expand once in side them, and Mr Baraclough is an avowed animal lover with two German Shepherds that he would die for – The two under water mammal inspirations were Rick and Gareth, or as was the tradition in this line of work, Mr Holt and Mr Wise – two of the most uncomfortably suited gentle men in the North East. A pair of Sea lions would appear more comfortable in suit and tie than Mr Holt and Mr Wise.

Micha was sitting on the fifth stair up from the doorway with her Disney Jim Jams on watching, if you can call it that.

An essential part of some thing can often be that which is taken for granted and when its gone you realise or if some one points it out you, you feel a little bit uncomfortable until you forget its not there, and you get on with it … any way, painting nails takes two hands; one for painting of course and one for holding the customer’s hand stroke fingers. It could be done as accurately if the customer’s hand or each individual fingers were held in some devise that steadied them, but; ‘People like their hands being held …it’s part of the service … you know that, don’t look at me like that’.

Customer care is what you don’t pay for, but if you don’t get it, well … Its like the chat you get when your having your hair done. That is limited by the mask warn by a nail technician, but that is what makes holding the customers hand that more important, and that means two hands, ‘at least’, and too Mrs Rhymes, that means ten fingers, ‘at least’.

If the traumatising of young children is something you don’t believe happens in an advanced capitalist circus; please keep your eyes focused on the comic expressions on Micha’s pajamas, for the rest of this tale.

The round bear has a bee on the tip of her nose and the attempt to focus her eyes on the bee has produced three drawn lines on her forehead, and she appears to be cross-eyed, and a bit cross too. A mouse with ears pricked up with excitement has blood on his teeth, lots of blood; but its dried blackcurrant juice that is being a very stubborn stain. Of course this bear is, as you may have been wondering, in fact a male bear and you wouldn’t usually describe a young pig as a rodent, but that was Michelle’s little game with Micha, a bit of ‘oh no he isn’t’, ‘oh yes she is’, kind of play with children to raise smiles and keep spirits up, when disappointment is waiting out side the window for the curtains to be opened in the morning.

I am guessing what happens next is just a matter of disbelief by those a party to the events. Mr Baraclough does not believe that Michelle is going to wrap her fingers around the door chain in an attempt to stop a bolt cropper from slicing through such a flimsy chain, a chain the like of which, these moist lips covered in a thin veneer of lip gloss, could snap in its sleep.

Maybe focusing on the disbelief is not really going to describe what happened. That is not why Mr Baraclough is carrying out what is a criminal act by forcing his way in to the home; but then if he didn’t then some other firm would and his firm would not be a firm, and there would be another set of debts being unpaid, by his employees. Competition is the law of laws. Wow, this is more effective than focusing on the cartoon characters on Micha’s Jim-Jams; we may be able to avoid being told what happens next.

One thought on “baileaf”

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