A terrible postscript to the Night Of Shame.
I passed the Man Who Lives Opposite in the street on my way back from the gym last night. Previously these encounters have given rise to a slightly awkward hello.
Last night, he stared stonily ahead. I think the bridges of neighbourliness are burnt.
I passed the Man Who Lives Opposite in the street on my way back from the gym last night. Previously these encounters have given rise to a slightly awkward hello.
Last night, he stared stonily ahead. I think the bridges of neighbourliness are burnt.
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