On returning from the United States to the United Kingdom, I opened my suitcase and found everything all scrunchled up and muddled inside it. I am not neat about most things (although I aspire to be). However, when it comes to packing I make sure everything is folded and beautiful - a case is a nice enclosed kind of space, where things don't get out of hand and I can successfully keep everything under control.
I was therefore irritated to find this on top of the mess that had replaced my neatly folded stacks of shirts and jumpers:
Why couldn't they just have put things back as they found them? Then they would never have needed to tell me they'd been in there. It would have taken too much effort, I'm guessing - lazy swine.
`When the Mind Deceives You Be Courageous' - After staying immersed in his work for several years, making him the foreign-language poet I read most often after Montale, I stopped reading Zbigniew Herb...
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