If it’s a weekday, I will go to work. I will return home ten hours later, undoubtedly with a stress induced headache.
If it’s a weekend, I will laze about in my jammies, catch up on the blog and watch chat shows on television.
An enormous traffic jam will happen somewhere on the M6.
Someone will give birth.
Someone will die.
Mr Shouty Man will sit on the wall outside my house, shouting to himself before he walks to the park and shouts some more.
Old friends will meet for lunch.
My bus will be late and then three of them will turn up all at once.
Someone will be released from jail.
A teenager will disappoint their parents.
A parent will disappoint their child.
Someone will do something that they regret.
Epic movies will be made.
Beautiful music will be composed.
Someone will get finally get their ‘big break.’
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