Fumbling around in the dark

Nobody’s life is filled with perfect little moments. And if it were, they wouldn’t be perfect little moments. They would just be normal.

PS I Love you

The first night away at her parents’ house.

There were no streetlights outside and when I got into bed I didn’t realise just how dark it was. So I lay there for a while listening to the noises outside. She had already gone to sleep.

I must’ve drifted off but when I woke it was still dark. So I closed my eyes and lay there hoping they would adjust and I’d would start seeing things. I nudged her.

“Are you awake?”


“I think I’m blind?”


“I can’t see anything. I think I’m blind.”

“Don’t be a tosser. There are no streetlights. It’s the country.”

So I got my legs out of bed. “Now I need to try and find the bloody toilet.”

She grunted and turned over.

I was a bit like a newborn trying to walk. Trying to be quiet. Silence, then a crash.

“Bloody hell. Bugger.”

The light went on.

“What are you doing in the wardrobe?”

“I thought it was the bedroom door.” There I was sat naked with a load of metal hangers  around me.

She just sighed and turned the light off. “Dickhead.”


I was late getting up the next morning. I looked like I’d been mauled by a tiger with scratches from the hangers.

I went in the kitchen and they were all sat eating toast.

She shook her head in mock disgust.

“Morning.” Her Dad didn’t look up.


“Sleep OK.”

“Yes thanks.”

“No splinters?” I groaned as she spat out her toast.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“We heard a little noise in the night. My daughter volunteered the rest.”

“How kind of her.”


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