…came from Alan of Oddverse, in the comments box attached to this post. Because I would hate for any of you to have missed it, I am reproducing it here.
Seven o’clock… Spend an hour tapping away on the laptop, chronicling minutae of existence. K vainly tries to distract me with text messages. “Nkd bloke in street doing push-ups. Snail not dead yet.”, but I tap on undeterred. The sun is setting, a glorious blood-orange glow is cast on the wall behind me, dappled through the gently waving leaves of the ancient ash tree that stands guarding the back wall of the garden. Surely there can be no greater bliss than this – a man, a laptop, and somewhere, a boyfriend torturing snails in an effort to get attention…
(On learning of this comment, K smirked broadly – indeed, almost triumphantly – from ear to ear, as I started frantically searching the cottage for hidden webcams.)
troubled diva 