little fox in a cold wood

I had a bit of a wobble this morning and then I drew a picture and managed to pull myself together.

But I felt a bit sad again, on my way into the studio, when I popped into the corner shop for a pint of milk and overheard this conversation between a shop guy and a guy who’d come into the shop, with another shop guy silently listening in.

Visiting guy: … You ain’t nothing, man.

Shop guy: Look, you see this?”

[Shop guy points to the t-shirt under his jacket, which has some sort of sports-related logo printed on the chest.]

Shop guy: THIS is what makes me different. This is the real stuff, genuine, not a fake. I can do this kind of thing now that I have some money.

Visiting guy: Aw, man…

Shop guy: Show me some respect, man.

I walked out and felt a bit teary. I’m okay now, just a bit hormonal and feeling the weight of deadlines and unfinished domestic stuff. I was going to go for a run but chickened out because it’s so cold.

*pulls self together*

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