Tales From The Town #229: Laundrette Dreams

Yulia uses the laundrette as a source of divination. Sit and stare into the swirl of soap and socks and see a glimpse of what’s to come. It might not be as accurate as tarot cards or tea leaves, but it’s more satisfying somehow. An hour removed from everyday existence, an excuse to think, a chance to dream, an opportunity to plan.

Her main worry is what she’ll do when this place closes down. It just wouldn’t be the same sitting on the kitchen floor watching the washing at home. Everyone would say she’d gone mad.

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Notes:

1. Written January 12th (or maybe January 13th), 2026

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Tales From The Town #228: The Worst Spellings Ever

“Wednesday,” said Claire. “It’s just stupid.”

“It’s no stupider than any other spelling,” said Ethel.

“It is!” Claire said. “You don’t say half the letters.”

“I do,” said Daniel. “I say ALL the letters. Ever.”

“He even says the y,” Tina said, as Daniel stretched the word out beyond a third syllable and into a fourth, and then somehow a fifth and a sixth and a seventh as the Y went on and on and on like a note in a song that never ends. It was beautiful. By the end everyone was in tears (except for Claire who, unsure whether Daniel was proving or disproving her point, had left the room in a rage).

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Notes:

1. Written on January 10th, 2026

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Tales From The Town #227: The Witch, Again

You can blanket the woods in snow. You can flood them with rain. Let the summer sun burn the trees down to their bones. Let the winds blow the ashes away.

Through it all the witch remains. Perseveres. Watches the woods grow back around her. Treasures her privacy all over again.

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Notes:

1. Written on January 9th, 2026

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Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

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Tales From The Town #226: Mince Pies

January snow blows in. Rivers freeze. The town is cut off from the outside world. Supplies dwindle, diminish. Soon will come starvation. Soon there will be death.

And still the mince pies sit on the supermarket shelves, prices reduced to 23p for a box of six, unbought, unneeded, unwanted, uneaten.

We would rather eat Easter than finish off Christmas.

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Notes:

1. Written on January 6th, 2026

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Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

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Tales From The Town #225: The Kite In The Tree

The kite in the tree yearns always to be free.

The kite in the tree cannot be retrieved. The kite in the tree cannot be dislodged. The kite in the tree is impervious to decay.

The kite in the tree yearns always to be free.

The kite in the tree watches birds fly above. The kite in the tree watches balloons float away. The kite in the tree sees the clouds, the sun, the stars, the moon.

The kite in the tree yearns always to be free.

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Notes:

1. Written on January 6th, 2026

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Support An Accumulation Of Things

If you like the things you've read here please consider subscribing to my patreon or my ko-fi.

Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

(Ko-fi contributors probably only get the gratitude I'm afraid, but please get in touch if you want more).

Thank you!