At the local tip, I was given insight into the hidden sophistication of the community in which I’m living. Fine paintings and opera records littered the site. Actually, someone has decided that these things belong in the tip, delivered them and chucked them into a metal skip. But then, an employee of the council has chosen them to be rescued and has salvaged them by placing them on a table beneath a sign saying ‘treasure’. That’s a powerful position to hold.
I’d like to think that stuff I considered worthless was reclassified by someone behind my back and placed on the treasure table, to be reinstated into our cluttered society.