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Howard Boreham opened his curtains. They were the beige ones he had purchased at "Dunelm" ten years earlier. He seemed to recall they were reduced by 50% and that he had paid for them with his Halifax bankcard. He could still remember his old card number: 4452 9431 6000 5139. That was before he moved his current account to Santander.
Outside it was pretty gloomy. The sky above was grey. His bedroom window overlooked an abandoned factory car park where a pair of scavenging crows were pecking at some litter. On the main road, the Number 81 bus trundled by on its way to the sprawling suburb of Dore.
Howard was wearing his striped pyjamas - the ones he had inherited from his late father. He scratched his bottom and headed for the bathroom where he brushed his teeth with "Signal" toothpaste and combed his hair with the black comb. He preferred it to the red one. As it was Saturday, he did not fancy having a shower.
Back in the bedroom, he got dressed. He picked his favourite grey polo shirt, his black "Lee" jeans, black socks and his "Umbro" trainers. Then he looked in the wardrobe mirror and smiled approvingly at himself before heading downstairs for his breakfast.
As usual, he ate a bowl of "Bran Flakes" and drank a cup of weak tea before heading out to the street. It was bound to be another action-packed day in the life of Howard Boreham.
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from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/LO781WE
