Casa, Rio de Janeiro
Social Isolation
Dear Martha,
It is day 10 of social isolation in the village, and we are all losing our minds. Mrs Twofarthings and Mrs Kickinghindshanks have grown tired of calling each other names and now just spend their days glaring at each other across the village green. But it was Rupert who snapped first. He was last seen cackling maniacally atop a mound of toilet paper rolls, before it collapsed under his weight. He now lies buried under a pile of bum-caressing flufiness. The rain turned it into a sooty papier mâché monument. We call it Rupert's Cairn. It is said that some faint moaning can be heard every day at Sainsbury's closing time, but I lack the heart to investigate it any further
Yours truly, xxx
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| Para lidar com o isolamento |
