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Friday, January 13, 2006


The insultion qualities of carboard are quite remarkable.
When you think about it.
And not having anything better to do, he was.
It's the twists, you see. You'd think lying on a few centimetres of compressed paper wouldn't make much difference, but it's the twists. Those twists mean you're not lying on centimetres, but metres - all packed up tight so they trap the air between them. So even next to cold concrete, it helped to warm you up.
Some people make the mistake of thinking you need layers and layers of blankets on top of you, but it's what's underneath that counts. He'd got it into a fine art: three flattened out boxes to start, followed by a blanket for comfort. Even if you only had one blanket, it was better to have as much as possible underneath you, and then wrap the rest around.
Newspapers too. They were his lifeblood. Each page offered so much. He'd never been so up to date with world affairs. Never had he stretched and exercised his brain so much as he had since he'd started on the crosswords and the So Doku. And come the evening, he'd roll pages up and stuff them into his boots for extra warmth, and then more under his armpits. Don't ask him why, but it made a difference.
But the cardboard, why that was like having a whole week's supply of newspapers rolled up as tight as possible.
A man with cardboard is a rich man, he thought to himself, as he slipped easily into another long and peaceful sleep.


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