The Lonely Labourer

John, the labourer, sits alone.

It’s lunchtime on the building site where John works and, some 50 feet away, the other two dozen labourers sit together on some benches and a few cracked plastic chairs. Come 1pm, they go to their spot, and John comes here.

“I don’t want to sit here on me own. But they always slag me cos of what I’m eating. And I don’t like getting slagged”.

They say what he eats is “weird”, that he eats “like a weirdo”. To illustrate their point, John holds up his hand. It contains a banana.

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