• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 11

Flipping Freezing

I'm flipping freezing.
I look like I'm hot, wrapped up to hold in my body temperature and keep out the heat, but I'm not. I'm flipping freezing.
See my toes? My poor toes? They're freezing too. Come to Margate, they said. It'll be warm, they said. It's not. I wore sandals.
I wrapped my picnic blanket around me; if you look closely you can see some tuna mayonnaise left over from our picnic.
I'm flipping freezing.
The bloody weatherman got it wrong again.
And I've got the sniffles.