Saturday afternoon. My flat. My boyfriend and I are preparing to head down to the Corniche, via taxi, for a late afternoon stroll. I gesture to two giant bags, one containing newspapers, the other clanking bottles, glass and plastic, that I wanted to feed into the tiny green, blue and yellow containers at Gate 2.
Me: I was hoping to take these. How do you feel about that?
Me: I was hoping to take these. How do you feel about that?
My boyfriend: I don't mind. I think they're going to end up in the landfill, but if it makes you feel better.
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