The Little Girl Who Gave Zero Fucks. J. Davis Milton

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      With special thanks

      to Mymedia

      This edition first published in 2018

      Unbound

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      All rights reserved

      Text © Amy Charlotte Kean, 2018

      Illustrations © J. Milton, 2018

      The right of Amy Charlotte Kean to be identified as the author

      of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright,

      Designs and Patents Act, 1988. No part of this publication may be copied,

      reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form

      or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be

      otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in

      which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed

      on the subsequent purchaser.

      Text Design by Carrdesignstudio.com

      A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library

      ISBN 978-1-78352-645-1 (trade hbk)

      ISBN 978-1-78352-644-4 (ebook)

      ISBN 978-1-78352-646-8 (limited edition)

      Printed in Great Britain by xxx

      To Bethan, Sophie and Cecily.

      I wrote this book for you (which according to Father

      Christmas is worth at least three Christmas presents).

      Remember: be brave, be yourself, and let other women be

      themselves, too. That’s the important bit. Even the darkest

      nights brighten when the stars hold each other’s hands.

      Lots of love from your Aunty Amy xxx

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      Some days, the world was

      meant to change.

      Your thoughts go bang, your

      eyes turn strange

      Like a magnificently coloured

      kaleidoscope lens,

      No matter the hows and the whys

      or the whens

      As the mountains have peaks and the

      seas have their waves,

      Some days you just know you were

      born to be brave.

      Elodie-Rose was a girl on a mission

      In a town where girls act like obedient

      kittens,

      Sing soft the same tune and dance neat

      the same jigs,

      Wear the same flowery dresses

      and pretty blonde wigs.

      But Elodie-Rose vowed to change

      this old world

      Because Elodie-Rose isn’t like

      other girls.

      In this town, each morning’s the same as before.

      Girls wake up and wash, take their socks from the floor,

      Eat breakfast, brush teeth, make the messy old bed,

      Pack their lunchbox with snacks for the long day ahead,

      Jump quick through the Lego, the dolls and toy trucks,

      Open the wardrobe, grab their basket of fucks.

      Wait: ‘What are fucks?’ you might suddenly cry

      As you halt to attention and rub your wide eyes!

      Well, fucks are the things that girls keep in their basket

      And must give away when somebody asks it.

      Fucks are their blues, their esteems and their happies,

      Sat in their basket ever since they wore nappies.

      Fluffy or bouncy or filled with slime,

      Fucks have existed since day one of time.

      Unparalleled energy runs through their veins,

      Lively curious creatures each basket contains.

      As unique as the way your own tongue says your name

      No two people’s fucks are ever the same.

      All girls bear the burden of fucks every day.

      For when someone is mean or throws nasty their way,

      If strangers start trouble or cause an upset

      Their palm is outreached and a fuck they will get.

      In the morning girls’ baskets are full and stand tall,

      But by bedtime there’s no fucking fucks left at all.

      When the sun sets, girls sleep, have the

      brightest of dreams

      Of giraffes and quad biking and jelly and cream.

      Becoming an astronaut or rich CEO –

      To unlimited magical places they go.

      Such sweet thoughts replenish their baskets of fucks,

      So