Thank you for asking how I was over lunch. Did you notice I was quiet
because I didn’t understand the references to tragedy and why the Greeks
were much more civilised? I was thinking about last night’s tragedy – that
lovely girl from Love Island was made to think her lovely boyfriend was with
another girl in a cruel twist from the mischievous producers and she was
distraught. Full on red-in-the-face blarting. Tonight I shall find out whether
their relationship passes the test. Everyone’s talking about it, and I don’t even
know how or why, but you lot all chipped in about mothers killing and eating
their babbies, ladling heads out of pastry lids and how it all happens off-
stage for the Greeks. I looked down and ate my home-made sandwich in a
fashion: both hands secured the bread, left the crisp packet unrustled, salt in
the corner. I didn’t drink from the bottle, remembering to sip slowly, carefully
from a barely filled cup. Tomorrow, I shall not discuss my thoughts on the
manipulation of classical tragic tropes in reality television by way of affecting
an apathetic millennial audience. I’ve heard it all before.