Brushes with the everyday

Wandering round Poundstretcher searching for a third member for his latest boy band project, it struck Simon that he might need some sandwich boxes for the forthcoming tour. Unfortunately, the range was limited, the choices all seeming inferior to the one he had in mind. Much like the quality of talent in the town, they just wouldn't be satisfactory, and would forever remind him of this present aspect of cheapness, desperation and laziness that the locale and it's population cast on every experience and artifact there. Simon was pleased when he had made up his mind to leave the stifling heat of the shop empty-handed. But it also left him without any of the things that he had come for. Another shopping trip wasted? Or could the day be considered research into the availability of sandwich boxes and pliable young men - lads who could be considered good-looking with the right styling but who wouldn't alienate the key demographic or aspire to a better life outside of the quite restrictive contracts he had planned.

Simon wandered back to his accomodation in a leafy haze between the dripping trees and shiny tarmac. Taking the route through the park gave him an extra two meters distance away from the cars, whose stink and noise filled the air for miles in every direction. It wasn't as if he didn't drive himself, but in this town you had to get your contact with nature where you could. Maybe it was time to check out tin foil or cling film as alternatives, he pondered. Of course, they wouldn't protect a delicate sandwich from the threats of a busy tour bus, and weren't reusable. Another useless idea, or the clear thinking of a man at the peak of his day? The breeze tickling the leaves above him whispered gently "the latter".