Kirsten s Turn
Sunday, 10am 'Oh, for fuck's sake, there is no god!' - this was Kirsten's first thought when she saw the envelope on the floor under her door. The bright pink, A3-size envelope seemed to be mocking her with its cheerful colour. It had her name, address and the city council's return address printed on it in a somber, simple font, but it might just as well have said 'TOUGH SHIT!' in Comic Sans, for it spelled the destruction of her plans for the next week. And of her dignity. Of her comfort. Of...