Polka Dot Thinking...

'Thank you for your advice, but I'm really quite certain,' Gerald blurts out as he pushes the rim of his glasses further up his ample nose, 'I'd like the blue one.' He had it all planned you see. At 17.55 he'd arrive at the florists. At 17.57 he'd buy a rose. At 17.59 he'd leave said shop with said rose and make his way across the road into Richmond Park. Gerald looks at his watch. 17.58 and dangerously heading towards 17.59. He looks at the shop assistant casually removing the rose's thorns; agitation flushes across his cheeks. Seconds race by. The schedule in the pocket of his suit jacket burns into his chest. Gerald feels faint and grips the counter for balance. A thought prods him; think positively. Gerald shuts his eyes and searches for a positive thought. He can't find one. He rifles through the annals of his mind once more only to find it occupied by the Republic of Desperation. It starts off as a rumble, but it quic

I decided that the only solution was to seduce him. I found him in the Terminal Bar and Grill. He was sober for a change. On the following Friday, we packed our bags and planned our escape. I was dressed in a completely inappropriate shade of red. On the Tuesday, he told me that he liked the little oranges with the seeds better than the ones I bought, I hated him for that. And I couldn't bear the way he made tea, or let the lemon sherbet melt all over the counter. It wasn't so much that I had been blind to the truth - it was just that I had seen the truth differently. Reference Heathrow Airport, London