After work, we both want to talk, but he wants to sit at the kitchen table and I want to walk.
In the end we do both. First at the table, with our white plates with white shop bought birthday cake, as all the homemade cakes are gone. Then outside, fast over the fields with the sky the colour of bruises, pale yellow, blue grey, the light coming and going and just home in time before it really rains.
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