Peter disappeared into the kitchen quickly returning with a carrier bag he picked up my shoes for me placed them into the box my new shoes were in and...put them inside the carrier. As we got to the door before he opened it he knelt before me barring my way. He kissed each foot in turn before getting up and opening the door for me. “Thank you Miss I hope we can do this again soon?” “May I mail you Miss.” All I could think is wow he must really of enjoyed himself as I strutted towards my car. I had definitely had too much to drink. It was Carl who made my stupor happy instead of sullen. It was sad, really. Linda and I had loved each other once. There was no reason, but human idiocy, to move to hate. Some strange desire to find fault not our own, and, in time, making it our own. No — I would not hate Linda, the Bitch Barrow. I would move to indifference. It was over and hate would only hurt me more than her now. ‘Carl,’ I said with drunken truth, ‘I love you buddy.’ We clinked. More

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