We are on Housemate’s balcony. Yes, he got the balcony room and I am fine with that.
I sip my wine. The evenings are suddenly warm, which may make up for the total lack of amenities my house has.
“Him?” he says, indicating the tall figure walking across the tarmac below.
He is obsessed with my life love, terminally single himself.
I wrinkle my nose. “Not bothered,” I say,
“Because he is not MindReader?” Housemate says, poking my side.
I smile.
I do not deny it.
Mind reader actually listens to you. How lovely. And rare, too. I mean as a quality (of course).
Yay! That is all. (oh yeah *whisper* I doubt I am alone in suspecting this for a long time *whisper*) But mainly YAY for the feelings you are not denying!