End of the Road
“Oh you’re joking!” I can’t believe it. Nothing like a nice relaxing end to the week, stuck in a plastic death trap with a clueless driver, reeking of anything floral to mask the heavy smoke. Just brilliant! It happens every time I don’t want it to. Whenever I’m stressed, bored, miserable or just gagging to get home, the late ride home is a taxi. As if staying at my dreary school for extra wasn’t bad enough, there’s a sodding taxi to put up with. But I’m moaning, time to look at the...