Addict

I am on a mission.  Running late for the playgroup at the library and laden with parcels for the post office, I push the buggy as fast as I can down the street.  Georgia is tired and wriggly.  Theo is hungry.  I said I would meet a friend and I am already late.  She will think I didn't turn up.  Again.

I round the corner and I try not to look at the sign.  I try not think about the place.  But it calls to me.  

"I don't have the money to spend" I say to myself. "I don't NEED anything" but already the magnetic pull of its secondhand goodness has steered my wheels off my track.

"Fine" I think as I roll inside the wide doors of the Salvation Army Shop.  "I'll just look. There is no harm in looking".  

Georgia starts pointing to the section I love. We wander back.  I remind myself that I don't need anything.  

But before I know it, vintage textiles leap from the rack into my arms.  A tacky set of faux quilted curtains.

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 A bright blue pair of Spiderman drapes.  A floral blue pillowcase.

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  ;And then I see it:

 

 

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A floral printed linen table cloth of epic vintage proportions.  Before I even know what I am doing, I hand over my £2.50 and run out onto the street, breathing hard, my eyes dialated with the thrill.

Later that evening I show Kevin my loot and he knows better than to voice his actual thoughts, but rather mutters "That's nice dear. What are you going to to ue it all for?"

To which I have no response other than:

My name is Kat. And I am an addict.

 

 

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