Emotion Recycling Centre

I set off early to the emotion recycling centre , so it would be quiet. At the barrier a man in hi-vis waved me down. "What have you got?" he asked.

"Anger, regret. A bit of old grief. Oh, and some shame."

"We can't take shame," he said.

I was only really there for the shame. "Where am I supposed to take it, then?" I asked him.

He just shrugged. "It's hazardous. You'll need a specialist service. The rest is OK." And he waved me through.

I dropped my feelings in the relevant containers, and then I glanced around for cameras and fluorescent tabards, before throwing my shame in the place marked "General malaise". I know it was wrong. But I didn't feel too bad about it.