It was a horrible day. Just awful. There wasn’t a nice thing to be said about it. The clouds had all pissed off somewhere nicer, the birds were belting out their usual moronic chatter, and the sun was shitting its glarey cancer-rays all over the decidedly damp ground. The wind was a lukewarm breeze so pathetic it may as well not have bothered to turn up, and the ugly, garish flowers were shoving their brightly coloured faces into Brian’s eye-line whether he liked it or not. Which he didn’t—they didn’t even match. There was a definite sense of impending wasp attack and the whole park smelt decidedly of plants.

It was a horrible, horrible day.

Of course, Brian had been dumped the previous evening.