Daily story, June 30, 2025

Slugs ate our entry for the sunflower competition. All at once, overnight. Planted, most likely: there’s a gap in the hedge at the bottom of the garden and the people behind have nefarious eyes. Sometimes at dropoff the mum looks at me with this mix of pissed off and scornful, just the way she looked at the note I left on her car, although I didn’t sign that so it must be coincidence. Calum says it doesn’t matter, it’s just for fun and they probably won’t even check who wins. But it’s the principle. I’ll show them.