Wednesday 16 March 2011
Mavis Complains ...
That feller I was telling you about, you know the one, yes, him, one time he took me away for a weekend in the Lake District. I couldn’t hardly believe it, I can tell you, but I should have known better. Up at the crack of dawn he was, and off walking the fells all day on his own. Then back he’d come in the evening, dosed up to the eyeballs on opiates, and sit down with a book of metaphysical speculations, and not even look at me once. “That’s not very romantic,” I said. “Shut up,” he said.
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