There’s no reason why I should be here. What I’m doing is irrational and irritating. Irrational, because the smartest thing to do with this jumper is throwing it in the bin, but I can’t bring myself to do that. And that’s why I’m irritated, because I’m here to return it. It’s childish, even for me, but there’s this…bitter taste in my mouth I can’t seem to get rid of. It lingered until it slithered its way down to my chest where it lodged itself between my heart and rib cage.
