But still it doesn't beat anything, than to dip into my handbag and haul three twenty packs of cigarettes and a mobile, held tight-fisted in my sweaty man-like palms.
Did stacey burrow a twenty pack? I must have given it to her, I shouldn't have, too nice like that.
Why am I stood here in the middle of my back garden with my best shoes on and my dress, oh now my heels are all muddy, I must change them before I go back out with Stacey then I will confront her about my cigarrete's. Damn you Stacey and your mind games, yes that how she got them off me with her little tricks she does, makes me feel guilt or love or whatever she does to make me feel like I need to give them to her.... I need a coffee. Shall I change my shoes or not??
The dog pounced through the garage door to greet his owner only to slip and collapse into a pool of blood.
Yes I shall change into my trainer's before I meet Stacey, where are they, where is the light? Huh! .... Rover, you ok?