Weekend Writing Prompt.

I can’t decide if i’m overcome with a massive case of “can’t be arsed” or I’m savouring every minute as I attempt to alphabetise my record collection.

As I shuffle around on the recently polished oak floor, feeling the knees in my moleskins thin. I’m beginning to admit there’s some shite here, maybe its time for a strategic partially targeted clear out?

This surely is an ineffable Duty of love.



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