Monday.

1920. Porridge. Gruel. Slop. I watch the shiny newsreaders from my cell.

1310. Half eat sandwich.

1425. Watch the shit hit the fan. Eat the second half of my sandwich. Break another row off the chocolate block.

1652. Eat a circular cracker of salty hope. Gotta get out of here.

1754. Home. Apple consumed. Was Granny Smith a mad old bitch? Will I become one too?

1930. Eggs and bitter, bitter aubergines.

2210. Ice cream in a fucking mug.

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