Yesterday Was A Holiday
Ugh, Wales. This godforsaken island. The whole of gross Britannia has been trudged over and fought over. Ever square meter has been set foot on, pissed, ruined and forgotten by someone. And we’ve got to trudge all the way to bloody Wales just because it’s a holiday.
Those thoughts ran through Jim’s head in some form as he slammed the car into gear, and yanked it back out. The old red Renault they were in struggling with the stop and go nature of the backroads and the holiday traffic. Everyone was trying to escape someplace else, only to make sure no one got anywhere.
Now Jim had to go to the in-laws. The last place he wanted to be. Especially with a cup final, or some other rivalry on the tele. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to talk football or any other sport. This whole “jaunt” as his wife called it was anything but relaxing for him. What he needed was a real holiday. Or to be back at work.
That was a vacation. One from the mundanity of family. At least there he could escape into his numbers. They said there was no creativity in accounting, and that was fine with Jim. Any sort of mess that came from so-called creativity was perfect for him, he sit and crunch those numbers all he liked.
At least the police left him to do that in peace. Unlikely family.
Today’s art is courtesy of Connor Sheehan from Cambridge, the United Kingdom.