There’s nothing
that cheers me more than the sight of a man who is contentedly bricking himself
in.
Sometimes, the
hardest thing in life is making a decision. Should I carry on or not? When
you’ve made your choice, you often start to doubt it.
Not this chap.
Look at his expression: not only has he resolved to end his days concealed by
brickwork, he also looks distinctly smug at the prospect.
This isn’t
particularly surprising. Look at his family crest; this man’s got building in
his blood. He presumably opted in to the family business, safe in the knowledge
that he had a job for life.
(...and, it seems,
a job in death.)
At least he’ll
die knowing he was respected for his craft. They wouldn’t have named a public
house after two of his limbs if he wasn’t. Something to consider whilst his lungs are starved of oxygen.
I’ve just noticed
the sky behind him. He’s not bricking himself in at all.
(Let's forget I wrote this.)