So this yesterday I ended up wandering through Dulwich (one of those little London villages) in the daylight (because I left my bag in the Plough there the previous night—the irony being that I would never have been here then if not for you). And all I could see in this place I’ve never been before were things; things that if you’d been with me (we’d have been smiling) I would have turned and said; some things I would have texted, if only I had your number. I have to tell someone, if only the silence of bits. In rough order:
- This is nice
- Milo has his own road
- Reminds me of York
- Reminds me of the pub next to the market in Norwich
- Look at the sheeps in the window
- Beagle!
- Nice pub-reminds me of the Centurian a bit
- The world is round
- When did everyone get so young?
- Does everyone come out in their pyjamas?
- Looks like a young David Tenent
- Stop looking at the pretty girls
- I miss you baby*
- I want to take you home to bed
- Read this thing I wrote—it’s about you
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