oops

That wasn't Franny.

chips & cheese & beans

I want a nice story. I mean everyone has some story or the other but I want a nice one. For some reason, that's really important to me. I want to remember when I first saw Franny. I want to remember the early stages. How I spent ages thinking about her. How I wondered if she might be Franny. When we first went out. What we ate. Silly things like that. And then years later I want us to laugh about it.

It is a cold november night. This is the first time I've gone out with Franny alone. I am sitting with her on a bench outside Trinity eating kebabs and chips & cheese & beans (she tells me the beans are very important because they help the cheese melt). My hands are cold. I hold the box with the kebab and she holds the chips. We reach over each other to dig into the chips and the kebab respectively. And then suddenly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she digs her fork into the chips and feeds me.

it's not dark yet, but it's getting there

Late last night, I took the bus from London to Cambridge. I listened to REM on my IPOD and watched the rain fall and the road pass by. The couple across the aisle slept in each others arms. I felt like I was on a long trip somewhere far away (South America?) but I was just going back to my flat.

I don't think many people read this blog but for those of you who have been checking in, I'm sorry I have written so little off late. But with the winter almost here (or is it here already? when does it really arrive?), I know I will start writing again soon.