Laura and the stuff from the past part 2

I have found yet more hilarious stuff from the past. A half finished short story which in my own considered literary opinion, borders on either genuis or madness. I would like to believe it is the former, but if anyone believes it is the latter, please keep it to yourself.

'Tuesday's Child'

Tuesday Ford got up one Thursday morning and realised she was bored. She had been bored for some considerable time now in her job as a shop assistant. The shop was reputable and her co-workers pleasant enough, but she found the tasks she was assigned to do tedious to say the least. Only last week she had been told to clean the packaging on the new arrival of Papermate pens and as she wiped and polished, she began to ask herself if this was all there was to life.

Tuesday was a bright girl, having graduated from college with a BA in Turf Management. She had expected a rosy and fulfilling future for herself, developing new and exciting ranges of grass species that could withstand even the most strenous of football games. However, 18 months on the dole had left her disillusioned and on a whim she had applied for this job, thinking it would tide her over until she either won the lottery or developed the confidence to become a prostitute. Tuesday was certain that these things were more likely to happen than the job she had gone to college hoping for.

On this particular Thursday, Tuesday decided she was so bored she simply could not face another day in the abyss of monotony that was life in a department store. She decided to do something which was quite out of character, something which she had been fantasising about for some time.Tuesday decided she would live her life on the edge. She wanted excitement like she had seen in the movies, she wanted danger, thrills, glamour and fame. She did not want mundane chores and fat little bosses ordering her to nip over to the shop for bacon and egg toasties and 20 silk cut.As she allowed her imagination to roam feely to its outer hemispheres, a huge grin appeared on her normally reserved features. Tuesday was not a person to do things by halves. She had been restrained for too long and all her energy concentrated in one direction, the wrong direction.

Packing a few essential items, such as a small colony of turf she had been cultivating on her window ledge and several pairs of clean knickers, she waltzed out of her flat and shut the door for the last time.Tuesday was on a mission to America, to the space centre at Houston, Texas. In her mind, she had it all planned. She would become an astronaut and conduct experiments into the growth of artificial grass blades in outer space. As far as she was aware, there was no grass on the moon, or any of the planets in the Milky Way. Science, it seemed, had missed this area of research and as far as Tuesday was concerned, this represented a definite gap in the job market. She was sure her CV,printed out on her Dad's 'Microsoft' computer in Times New Roman font would impress the officials at the space exploration program. As for becoming an astronaut, she felt she could cope with the lack of air. She had once won an underwater swimming competition when she was seven and had held her breath for a full eight minutes.She could easily see her name and photo in the next issue of 'New Scientist' and its accompanying headline:

'Tuesday's Child is full of grass - on the moon!'

As far as Tuesday could see, people were practically living on the moon anyway. Soon these people would require shopping malls and football pitches. Houses would be built, all requiring grass verges. Her future was certain. It would be good for her to leave a planet thay was just ending, for one that was just beginning.

The End, so far.

If anyone has any suggestions about how I could develop this story further I would be most interested to hear them. I feel it is not far from completion and I would like to get it sent off to 'Take a Break' asap. I can imagine its readers enjoying this story over a nice mid morning cuppa.