Oh, woe! My plastic bracelet broke!
When I left
home, and more importantly work, in order to go to university, my
coworkers were anxious (as I suppose they are with all leavers) that
I remembered them. While stripping
shrinkwrapping from a pallette of newly arrived Christmas
decorations, my closest friend ripped off some wrapping, stretched it
out until it was a thin line, and then tied it around my wrist. With
this came a solemn promise to keep in touch, and from then on every
time I looked at my left hand, memories of the past year
came flooding back and cheered me up when I was feeling lonely or
stressed.
I've kept this worthless piece of plastic for two
months, endured jibes about cheap jewellery, until today. It's
been getting increasingly raggedy recently, and now, broken in two, it
just looks like someone left an small octopus to die on my desk. I'm going to need another
one, from the same source.