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?”

“What?”

“I think I’m blind?”

“What?”

“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.

“Morning.”

“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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