So I had a very enjoyable weekend pottering about Havant and East Wittering; I’d not seen Caversham Princess or Bobby Convey in quite a while so it was good to drink red wine, eat mini-poppadoms and cassoulet and put the world bang to rights as always.
Spending time near the sea was wonderful, both on the Saturday when all was becalmed and warm and on the Sunday when the wind blew and the rain lashed.
In between geeking-out over particularly pleasing pebbles and getting excited about all the dogs on the beach, I thought about Petrichor. I thought of him whilst I slid down the shingle banks and watched the waves slip back and forth over the bubble-strewn, gritty sand… I pictured his gloriously haystack hair as I watched the hedgerows zip past the car window. And I felt sad.
The week of non-contact started off okay but as the days have passed my feelings have changed quite markedly.
:(
