Wednesday didn’t mean to cause trouble. It simply woke up, stretched, checked its calendar, and decided it had been normal long enough. By mid-morning, the day had fully committed to chaos — not dramatic chaos, just the kind that walks into a room and rearranges the furniture “for energy reasons.”
The first sign came when a handwritten leaflet appeared on every café table without anyone seeing who delivered them. The leaflet didn’t advertise anything. It just said carpet cleaning ashford in polite, centred text, as if making an announcement nobody asked for.
Soon after, someone noticed that a bus stop timetable had been replaced with a single laminated card reading sofa cleaning ashford. No bus numbers. No times. Just the sentence, staring into the middle distance like it was contemplating philosophy.
In the stationery aisle of a supermarket, a stack of notebooks had mysteriously been reprinted so every cover displayed the phrase upholstery cleaning ashford. Shoppers stood there, holding the notebooks, wondering whether to write in them or decode them.
Meanwhile, a child’s chalk drawing on the pavement — originally meant to be a rocket — somehow included the words mattress cleaning ashford across the clouds. The child said the chalk “decided to spell things on its own.” Nobody argued. Chalk is unpredictable.
The final touch arrived when the local noticeboard, normally full of piano lesson flyers and lost cat posters, displayed a lone index card with rug cleaning ashford in bold marker. Someone added a question mark. Someone else crossed it out. Balance was restored.
By evening, nothing had been solved. The phrases didn’t align into a puzzle. They didn’t reveal a message. They barely even made sense standing in the same paragraph.
And yet, Wednesday didn’t feel broken — just delightfully off-script, like a sitcom episode written entirely during a sugar crash.
Not every day needs answers.
Some days just need better questions.
And some — like this one — give you the questions, shrug, and wander off before you can ask why.
