metaphor-in-waiting

You know when you throw away a pair of socks, or old undies, or – as I did today – miscellaneous soft things that have been hanging about attracting mould, and then you throw normal rubbish, like food scraps, into the bin on top of it and it creeps you out all the way to the tips of your fingers?

I am waiting for the fictional moment that requires just such a metaphor.

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