And also, the first one? So, so true. Factory work is too boring to be true.
It was quite possibly the dullest job ever, but at least it paid the bills. He didn’t mind doing overtime, sometimes, but it was boring. Standing all day made your feet hurt, and the heavy screwdrivers made your arms hurt, and the carton crates could cut your hands if you weren’t careful.
But it was a job, and it paid the bills.
Feuilly considered himself lucky, on the whole, and on the first of May he marched under banners against the war, reasoning that he didn’t need to improve his lot but others would need his help to improve theirs.
She wasn’t sure whether she was ill or not, and she didn’t want to know. If she was, then her baby might be ill too - her little girl, rather: time really did fly. Sometimes she wished she could go back to her old job, but that would be impossible. A person who’d left her child in foster care, who had – no, used to have a drug habit, who might possibly (but of course didn’t really) have HIV, and who (to be blunt) sold herself - a person like that wasn’t fit for anything.
Particularly not happiness, Fantine thought angrily.
She didn’t remember much of her childhood, but when she read the first Harry Potter book she had nightmares about his cupboard (just a silly dream, of course). While her classmates seemed always to drink, and smoke, and buy condoms, she was a good girl because she could see no reason to be otherwise.
She did go to the café sometimes, and liked it. There was a boy – but of course, he couldn’t possibly have noticed her – who seemed very nice, but he was forever talking with others and so she simply sat at her table and looked at him.