“Tell me the worst.”“You are required to assist in a boxing,” he said, and then pushed a copy of the London Times across the desk to me.“Ope... the paper at page six, and read the article half way down the page.”I looked as directed. Printed beneath an illustration of a grave/mausoleum was the title ‘The Grave of Lord Castlereagh’ and a paragraph describing the memorial, and the sum of money reputed to have cost.The writer continued.‘Our readers may be interested in Lord Byron’s appreciation of. .Obviously.We played our 'fantasy' games regularly afterwards and the thought of watching her fantasy come true got stronger and stronger until one day I suggested he should join us one evening. She was a little apprehensive but agreed to it eventually, (she told me afterward she couldn't believe her luck when I asked and wanted to say yeeeeeeess straight away but thought it better to hold back.Tease!!). Now the hard part was letting Rob know. We regularly go out for a drink together and I. ” I clumsily put the pumpkin on the fence post, and hurried toward the street. I heard a yelp, then a splat. I stopped, and had a precious moment with which to take a deep breath, and ready myself for the shitstorm. “You fucking asshole!” Emily squawked from behind the screen door, “You did that on purpose, I know you did!” “It was an accident.” I said sardonically, exaggerating my shrug. It actually was an accident, of course, but anything was better than the truth in this moment. Emily’s pale. Mom: Perfect! Here's one. And I love the color.Me: Ah, are you sure mom? Aren't those a tad small for me?Mom: No look. The hanger says... extra small. Should fit fine.Satisfied, she handed me the hanger and went back to looking through theclothing rack.Me: Okay...but what do you want me to do with these?Mom: Try them on, of course! Silly. Now, there are changing rooms overthere. Go put them on and see how they fit.Me: That's ok. No need. Let's just...ah... buy them now. (I really wantto get out.
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