Once a fortnight, I pick up a free magazine that I read while waiting for the bus. On the back page is the best horoscope for Scorpio folk. I say for Scorpio because sometimes, when I have a lot of time to kill, I read other signs and I invariably come away glad to be a Scorpio. And this week it was as though the horoscope gods were sending me an action kick from on high. I quote:
Daytime. An empty room. Some wine spilled on the floor. Tile curling up under the sink. The fridge door is swung open and it is obscene. Upstairs there is shouting. Outside, sirens. Why can't you move, Scorpio? Why can't you just bring yourself to some small moment of action? This $@1% is depressing.
So, there it is. My small moment of action.
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