Guess what I found today, wading through the tall grass? Her umbrella.
I was chasing away the recent infestation of magpies (six – numbers seem to be growing) and I stumbled over something shiny. I recognised the gilded handle, slightly scuffed in places but intact. I pulled it out, opened it up and checked if it was alright. No tears or anything.
When I see her again, I’ll pass it on. She will say thank you. I’ll say something funny with regards to the situation. She will laugh. Then, if I did things right, she will ask me out for coffee or lunch or ice cream or something with her. If not, then I have my lighter with me.
She can’t say no. She will have to talk with me now. She must see me.