Skip

The driver shook my arm, although I wasn't sleeping. "You can't be in there, mate."

"Why not?" I said. "It's my skip. There was nothing in the terms about it." I was a little more brusque than I intended, I think because of the cabinet corner poking into my back. I tried to focus instead on the pillow of shredded papers under my head. I lay still, and smiled my it's-OK smile, so practised all the detail had worn away. But after ten minutes he got back in the loader, promising to be back tomorrow. I sat up, and looked around at all the ruined things, and wondered how I might conceal myself.