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Winston

By Harriet Gillian

Winston rolled onto his back and stared at his new ceiling light. The shop assistant had assured him it was ‘bang on trend,’ but he did have to wonder, was he really a ‘rattan' man? He thought briefly about putting the old one back up, then chided himself, no. No, Winston, no. Remember, you must ‘try new things.’

“Well, let’s see, what colour are your walls?” Sadie the shop assistant asked Winston.

They were so nondescript he couldn’t actually remember.

“Beige-ish?”

Sadie rubbed her chin. “OK, OK. So neutral. Lovely. We can work with that.”

She walked over to a white, chunky-knit cushion with fringing and embroidered black crosses.

“This type of thing is all over Pinterest. Very boho, very urban explorer. See?” Sadie threw it lightly in the air, reshaped it and passed it to Winston.

He stared at its ‘boho’ fringing. It looked like a cushion.

“But of course you do want a little ‘POP’ of colour in there too. So how about…”

Winston followed her across the shop floor to a gigantic wall of cushions. Who knew.

“What do you think?” Sadie invited him to choose. This was new. 

Winston froze. Eventually, his eyes were drawn to a round, burnt orange, velvet cushion.

“Gorge! Oh my god. Great choice.” Sadie gushed. “It’s perfect.”

Winston snorted with relief. “And this one?”

He pointed at another chunky-knit cushion, but this time black, with white embroidery.

“Yes!” Sadie clapped. She stepped out of the way so he could take it down for himself.

“Oh, OK.” He said. Gently, he prised it out from the manicured display and held it in front of him like a tray. Sadie popped the first ‘boho’ cushion on top and took the orange velvet one under her own arm.

“Anything else?” She asked.

Winston answered quickly. “No.” He didn’t want to rush this, he would take his time, Winston time. “This is fine, for now. Thank you.”

Winston left the shop and called an Uber. He’d never taken an Uber before.

It was nice.