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Yesterday in a bit of a fit, I slapped my ageing laptop roughly. My old faithful, shiny red laptop which has a quiet little personality of its own. It froze up, hurt and has thereafter protected itself from me by working only in safe mode. As a silent rebellion against my bad behaviour all the little things in my life have stopped talking to me. The little red kettle turned its spout away from me this morning. Eli, the purple elephant, has not smiled at me since yesterday. The Duchess tried to trip me with her front wheel. The leaves of the little carnation plant have darkened in rage. The radio hissed at me this morning. One of my gloves was so angered that it jumped out of my coat pocket and ran away from me (and the other glove) forever. I got home some flowers for my lappie, as a sort of get well soon gesture, but all the little things started whispering to them, filling them with poison. Soon enough they too had turned their heads away from me. I suppose tomorrow I can expect to wake up cold as my duvet would have walked out in the middle of the night, my hair dryer to try and mildly electrocute me, my hand cream to ooze onto the floor to make things slippery and all the cutlery to follow me in arrow formation to the main door. Maybe my ear muffs will try and press the sides of my head when I’m in the bus, elongating it until I resemble one of the coneheads.

Cherry red laptop, I tender an unconditional apology. Please let’s go back to the way we were. Sorry to have hurt you.

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