– What time did y’all stay up to?
– Are you all right?
– No. I am not all right.
– Um, well, what’s up?
– Rafal has just kicked me out of house.
– Oh. Well, maybe he’s just hung over.
– It is not funny.
– How much for the bus, 60p?
– What will I do? I have no place to go?
– Don’t worry about it. Wait until this afternoon and see what happens. Don’t let it upset you.
– Easy to say.
– I know. Easy to say, not so easy to do.
– 45 minutes until I go to work.
– 5 minutes for me. I don’t want to walk in the rain.
– Me neither.
Women’s magazines always feature a smiling woman on the cover beside a caption like “The Terror of my Date-Rape Husband.”
You smell of sandalwood warm paper and you press hot gold into my hands.
I am beset by foul smelling alcoholic farting British men! Their stink is so palpable they leave it behind them like fingerprints on a mirror. A smudge of stink.