A sort of a bookcase
I brought this book case from my previous rented flat. My landlady said the tenant before me had left it, it wasn’t on her inventory, and she didn’t want it. For a flimsy set of shelves it stores a lot of stuff. This is what I look at when I’m not gazing at the telly box. The woman in the centre in the denim jacket is Ruth, the only girl I ever married. If you want to know anything, just ask away. (Inspired my MH’s recent post.)
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