You do the daftest things when you live alone.
Like eating chocolate cake for breakfast and using half a tin of alphabetti spaghetti to compose bad haiku, or drawing a face on your toenail where it peeks through a hole in your sock and serenading it with an out of tune chorus of ‘Liverpool Lou’.
Or sitting staring at your smartphone for twenty-three long minutes wondering if he will ring – or even text.
But at least, when you go to bed after dining on microwaved porridge, you don’t have to fight for the duvet or sleep in a damp patch…
EM-Drabbles – Eighty-Seven

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