If I ever run into you, I’ll give you a watch fob, or a fancy necktie, or a pair of brogues, an umbrella, or a porcelain mug with a robin painted on it, or if your needs require one, a monocle, or the complete unabridged works of Shakespeare, so that you too can dress up like a British gentleman, regardless of sex, and say things like Tally ho, and still be topically relevant.

We can sit in an exorbitant cafe along the river Thames and binge on cups of coffee and macarons, and with a stiff upper lip you can tell me exactly what went wrong with every outfit you see. I will of course cackle in an over the top fashion, so as to encourage your dark wit, as I, for better or for worst, find shrewdness amusing.

Such a lovely time you and I will have if we run into eachother. Perhaps for kicks we can even pretend to be Erasure or The Pet Shop Boys, and write a song together about the lovely day out we enjoyed.

In eachother’s company we might even come to the conclusion that life is, in fact, rather beautiful.


2 thoughts on “Sunset

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