My train home was delayed, they blamed leaves on the line but to my way of thinking the station manager didn’t want to dampen the spirit of the lovers (who incidentally were out in droves, making their way to Lytham for romantic meals and such-like) by mentioning some poor chap thought it a fitting night to end it all. Either that or there was leaves on the line.
I had read my copy of the LEP cover to cover three times over when my train finally arrived (I saw fit to complain just twice) - didn’t have the energy to protest further. The train was packed. The smell of perfume and aftershave clung to the air like a thick fog, couples laughing, kissing, caressing - it drove me insane. Just thinking about the wilderness I have left only to find myself alone in a barren land without love made my heart ache and anxiety grow like a black flower unable to blossom.
The slug-like pace of the train added to my frustration. I thought of the team, despite their hardened exteriors every one of them has a partner to go home to (some are in same sex relationships but that is neither here nor there, I may be driven to ’turn’ to men if I don’t meet a woman soon!).
I wound myself up so much on the journey home I stormed into the newsagents and tore my ad from the window. I highlighted each and every word with my luminous yellow highlighting pen and placed the ad back in the window in a prominent position (above the ad for caring lady funeral director). Paid the newsagent's son an extra £1 for his trouble and left.
Even the newsagent had taken mrs newsagent out for a meal. Good job really as he can be rather heavy handed when it comes to people fiddling with his shop displays.
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