Like a child on a school trip, within an hour and a half of leaving my house, I have already finished my carton of orange juice. The clammy feeling of my T-shirt before I even get to the factory reminds me tomorrow, to bring antiperspirant. Whilst the rumbling in my belly regrets not having eaten some toast before leaving, as, like the child of my youth, I eye up the cheese and mustard sandwiches in my lunch box.
A little time to write before I arrive for the inevitable drudgery of the day. I’ll be assembling garden equipment for one of Europe’s largest manufacturers, ten hours per day, at 9 pence above minimum wage. On top of that…
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