SMALL WORLD

I’m staying with my best mate Claire in her studio flat in London. The next two days work is just up the road. It’s lucky we’ve known each other all our lives as we’re sharing a bed in a very small space. When we were kids, skipping through the daisies in the countryside, we never envisaged this is where we’d be at almost 40. 
But times are hard. And when times are hard, we laugh.

Work today was a challenge. The internet and email were down all day and 
I didn’t realise how much I rely on it. I needed reference images of various things and I needed them quickly. I couldn’t get them and I can’t draw from memory so I was stuck. What did people do before? Go to the library? Look through stock shot books? Yes they did. I remember. But no one has stock shot books anymore, and there’s no time to go to the library.

It’s a small world. I know the account director I’m working with from my 
ex-job where she was freelancing. And the client’s familiar as well. I had 
a chat with the boss at lunch time. He too knows my ex place of work.

“Isn’t that where people go to die?” he said.

Maybe I had a lucky escape.
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