This morning it
was too cold to shave. The wind has continued to howl throughout the day as I
await the call for my promo skills to be summoned. Snow on my window has been
replaced by bright, icy sunshine. My grandmother used to say ‘never trust a man
with a beard.’ Can I trust myself? My big toes rest numbly within my Uniqlo
slippers, as another piercing blast whistles past my window, followed by a low
moaning howl and a thundering rattle of an ambiguous external object. I must
shortly summon the will to leave my house and venture outside, to collect my boys from
their Tuesday after school ping-pong club. Into the breach once more…
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