"Stop looking over my shoulder!" barked Andy.
"I can't help it," I bleated. "My ex is sat on that table. On a date."
"Well, stop looking," suggested Andy.
We left, instead. Andy glanced dismissively at both of them, just as the date brayed at something funny Adam said. "Hum. He's not bad looking, but did you hear his laugh? Can you imagine what he'd sound like in bed?"
I was quiet.
"Are you ok?" asked Andy.
"Yeah. Just... well, Adam said he spent every evening in hospital at his dying flatmate's bedside... and, well..."
As we walked down the road, a gentle laugh eeyore'd on the breeze.
1 comment:
well either his flat mate is dead, he's been visited by lazarus and made a remarkable recover OR...........
not knowing the man, and only knowing about him from your writings......... i'd plump for the OR :)
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