Sunday – “in the slope of your shoulders which I’d presumed to understand and of which I knew nothing”
MindReader is not a very emotional person.
Well actually that’s not quite true. He probably is, he just doesn’t proclaim things like he feels like Emily Bronte when it’s thundering, or that he is feeling Very Sad when the cake turns out burnt and rubbish, like I do.
That Sunday I woke up late, walked around some pools and lakes with MadFather, and it was actually quite liberating to not check my phone all the time. Obviously I couldn’t leave it at home because of the wonderful GPS maps that lead us on a lovely walk! Oh, beautiful iphone! You are worth the interest rates I am paying on my overdraft(s)!
I went to BathShop for the afternoon, sorted soaps and smiled while I served customers. I left BathShop in the early evening, the weather warm enough for just a black dress and flip flops. I walked past people drinking, stood at tall metal tables outside trendy pubs, and someone puffed a plume of smoke right into my mouth. I don’t dislike it; it reminds me of holidays and festivals.
I glanced at my phone and saw the voicemail flashing. It was simply lovely, as clichéd as it sounds, to hear his voice again, his profuse apologies for the total lack of contact.
I got home, made two coffees and tidied the flat.
He came in with a massive grin on his face. And, even though he didn’t say anything, when he put his arms around me he took a big lungful of the scent of my hair.
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