So our esteemed leader has been in the press blaming the victim.
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So our esteemed leader has been in the press blaming the victim.
He weaves around the corner, grinning and ragged in the rain, like a familiar smelly dog you don’t want to touch.
He is pleased to see me. I am not pleased to see him.
His left hand wields a can of something that will make the average person barf after three or four. He wears dirty cut-off blue jeans and a wet white shirt.
Maybe I looked like an adult waif, a figure who commands pity sooner than anything else.
In a grumpy bid for privacy, I went op-shopping today for curtains.
I live within rolling distance of a river which is a regular fishing and swimming spot for some of the landlord’s whanau. It’s summer Down Under, so school is out, which means they visit regularly, which means I sacrifice some privacy.