In Mystic River the local hoodlum is in for questioning. The sergeant says that he's clearly done time - you can tell from the tension in his shoulders.
The detective remonstrates: "He's just heard that his daughter has been murdered." The sergeant replies: "That you feel in the pit of your stomach; the shoulders - he's done time."
Our own stomachs have been assaulted by the realisation that our washing machine has packed up. Much random pushing of buttons finally got the door open: sludgy water still lies inside and the clothes are disgusting. We await the views of a repairman re: fix or replace.
After a morning cementing slabs outside the back door, I really expected a more rewarding afternoon. Clare, after a morning sanding window sills, likewise.
