If it ain’t broke …

If it ain’t broke … Robert cast a functional eye over the stranger in the art room. ‘You got my lunch?’ he asked, not bothering with formalities. ‘No,’ said the stranger, ‘But I’ve got an offer.’ He was tall-ish, broad-ish and, Robert thought, social worker-ish. He was also artificial-ish but that passed Robert by for now. ‘My name is Artem and I’m from …’ ‘An offer?’ Robert recognised the word but its meaning escaped him; and anyway he was hungry. You could starve here, he thought, and social workers would just fill in another buggersome form. Robert rolled buggersome around in his … Continue reading If it ain’t broke …

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