“You know what? I don’t think this is ever going to get fixed!”
His voice sullen, low, the corners of his mouth turned down as he looks up at the twisted wooden beams, once straight, exposed by the removal of the roof tiles.
“Looks like water has been getting in here for a while!” came the response “See here? The way this section has deformed? That doesn’t happen overnight!”
He looks again, trying to see some way forward, some solution, the warped wood defying him, taunting him, chiding him for his lack of care, the forgotten maintenance, the missed opportunities to repaint the soffits, to stave of the worst the weather had to throw at the old building. He turns his eyes skywards, grey clouds passing slowly across a pale blue backdrop. A pause, the intake of breath as he gathers his thoughts, the options weighed, decisions made…
“Fuck it, lets have a beer”