Let the chips fall where they may

Word of the day: zyzzyva – South American weevil

Weather: patchy

Mood: a bit snippy

Barry the road sweeper came to join us over break again. Everybody but me (I was doing the washing up) left the room, which upset him.

‘None of them like me, they’re all avoiding me,’ he snarled.

‘I think they’ve just gone out to smoke,’ I lied.

‘Yeah right. You don’t know what it’s like here, everyone in this place is out to get me.’

‘Take it easy, Barry. I don’t think anyone’s out to get you, people are just doing their own thing.’

Barry walked over to the sink, he leaned in towards me and said conspiratorially,

‘I saw the helicopters earlier, you saw them?’

‘Sure, I think they were air-ambulances,’ I said, wondering why the conversation had switched.

‘Bollocks they are! They were watching me!’

‘The helicopters are watching you?’

‘Yeah, but I know what they’re up to, they won’t catch me out.’

‘Ah,’ I said.