Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Chapter 7

This is the seventh adventure of Mr BooHoo. I would suggest to any reader that is unfamiliar with his issues to start from chapter !(1). Scroll down, then!

Mr BooHoo, chapter&(7)

Mr BooHoo got up at half past eight. It was nice. The sky had the lovely blue colour it has sometimes after it has rained the previous night, and the day before it had rained for the first time after almost a month. Autumn had arrived, officially. He decided to watch television while having his morning cup of coffee. Television lately felt like a bearer of bad news, so he avoided it. The only safe programme was a telemarketing show about sneakers with curved soles that could lift your breasts and help you loose 2 kg per week. After looking at it numbly for approximatelly 20 minutes he realised it was playing on a loop and that he had already watched it two and a half times. Still, there was nothing better to watch, apart from a pre-school show with an ugly panda.

The rest of the channels had early morning talk shows, on which they debated if the country had been bankrupt and this was not being announced to the public, or if the economy would smash within a month. He pondered on the idea of finding imunity outside the economic system by moving to the countryside, as people do in case of war, and if there were the potential for dignified survival under the circumstances. First things first, though, and the first thing that Mr BooHoo needed to have done was to solve his physical health issues (the psycological would have to wait). Since he had had a couple of negative experiences from the public health system, he had resolved into going to a private clynic.

He thought that politicians should be forsed to go to local public hospitals. This should be their punishment for not providing the people with decent  public health care. It didn't feel right to need a loan so as to get well.

If he managed to get through all these he might reconsider leaving the city. There was warfair anyway. It just hadn't been "announced to the public", yet people were pushed to poverty and starvation. The funds on education and the arts were constantly dimimished. There was strong propaganda and people's mental safety was in peril.

Back from his thoughts on current affairs, he decided it was time to go to the loo. He brushed his teath, kissed his friend and dog goodbye and left for the bus station. He would go to the enemy's lair; the tax offices at his hometown. He would have to face the beast and get his things done. It was a bright, sunny day. He was feeling uncomfortable but he had started getting used to the feeling. 

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