Susieq!
How did you know about the deepest darkest secrets of the recesses of my troubled mind?
Uncanny!
I tried to take your advice, but couldn't find my medication last night, so had to settle for some Horlicks. I slept only fitfully I must admit, and OH
the night away oblivious of my inner turmoil. Could Susieq be right? Would there be a note, a love token?
When the postman walked up my path this morning I was taut with anticipation, an involuntary twitch playing above my left eye.
I snatched the door open and grabbed the proferred parcel from his hand. His friendly face registered first surprise and then horror as could not fail to notice the now uncontrollable twitching and winking of my eye, reminiscent of Herbert Lom confronted with Closeau.
I attempted to thank him, but my excessive drooling only resulted in producing an incoherent gargle.
He stumbled backwards down the path, eschewing my offer to sign for the package.
Alone at last, I closed the door behind me and carried the box tenderly to the kitchen table. I placed it reverently down and observed it from every angle.
I opened the box, oh so carefully. There inside were my Sunday best, carefully refolded, with the letter inside.
You could tell they were folded with love, but sorry Susieq, no note in the double gusset.
Even so I am happy.
Paul Clarke has handled my drawers! My life is complete.......................................... .
