"Waaaay back in the distant past, I’d been on an amazing date with a glorious girl. Taller than me, curvy, a bit vampy. Sparkly red dress, over-the-knee black leather boots, and BRIGHT red hair, long and straight, all the way down to her bum. She was clever, witty, curious about everything … we had an absolute blast. And we did the long, meandering, slow walk back to her flat. Stood on the steps outside as the late-night summer sun faded, and talked about situations, past relationships, and possibilities.
Then she switched subject and started telling me about how her ex-boyfriend was unstable. And recently out of prison. And regularly appeared at her door, all times of the day and night. And over the past couple of weeks had taken to arriving with weapons. A machete one evening. A shotgun another. But I shouldn’t worry about him, he was harmless really. Although he did give her this bruise a couple of days ago …
"
She was just telling you it was time for you to go home, chap. |