At 8:03am, Lionel opened his eyes and immediately knew the day was going to be uncooperative. Not because of the weather, not because he overslept, but because the first thing he saw was a rubber duck sitting on his bedside table wearing a tiny cape and holding a toothpick like a sword. A heroic duck was not on his agenda, but the duck did not care. The duck had purpose.
Lionel got up slowly, the way a man rises when he suspects the universe is already laughing at him. In the kitchen, his toaster was upside down, his cat was staring at a spoon like it owed him money, and the fridge door was slightly open even though he definitely remembered closing it. That’s when he made the fatal decision: he opened his laptop.
Five tabs were waiting. Five tabs that had been there for days, like a digital omen he refused to decode:
roof cleaning isle of wight
patio cleaning isle of wight
driveway cleaning isle of wight
exterior cleaning isle of wight
pressure washing isle of wight
All he wanted was to check the news. Instead, his browser was trying to convince him that every outdoor surface he’d ever walked on required urgent attention. He didn’t even have a driveway. He lived in a flat. With carpet.
Before he could attempt to close the tabs (again), a loud clatter emerged from the living room. He walked in to find the rubber duck—cape on, toothpick raised—now positioned atop a stack of coasters like a tiny warrior king. The cat was watching respectfully. Lionel wondered if he was interrupting a coronation.
To avoid thinking too hard, he made cereal. The milk carton mooed. Not figuratively. It literally mooed. It was the exact sound of a cow that had seen too much. Lionel put it back in the fridge and decided he no longer needed calcium.
He tried to reset the day with a walk… until he opened his door and found a stranger standing there holding a clipboard that read: “Survey: Do You Believe Fruit Has Emotions?” Lionel closed the door. The survey man knocked again, gently, like fruit feelings were a serious matter.
Back at the laptop, the tabs still glowed: patio cleaning isle of wight stared at him like a teacher waiting for homework. He clicked it, not out of interest, but out of surrender. The page loaded. Nothing unusual. No secret messages from the duck kingdom. Just patios. Normal patios. Unaware of the chaos happening outside their web page existence.
Lionel shut the laptop. The duck saluted him. The cat blinked twice, like an agreement.
Somewhere, a milk carton mooed again.
Some days are about purpose. Some days are about meaning. And some days just want you to acknowledge pressure washing isle of wight for no reason at all.
Lionel went back to bed. The duck stood guard.