Sainsbury’s café on a Saturday. Cup of tea and a bacon roll hot enough to burn the roof of my mouth. Rain falls outside, but in here, it’s warm and dry, so whatever. Paintings on the wall never change. Nor the items on the menu. But that’s okay because I don’t like change and neither do you. A newspaper full of celebrity shit, but you like the horoscopes so I read them in a mock voice full of despair and anguish. Your small nose. Your scent. Your fleshy body beneath mine and then it’s time for us to eat our caramel shortbread and the bubble of thought pops as quickly as it formed. Your fingers wrap around the soda carton. Your lips open to suck the straw and your eyes on mine then to the window and the town outside. People look to take shelter from the rain. Some have umbrellas. Some sprint and others just potter around with their hands in their pockets resigned to their soggy fate. It’s kinda funny and makes me laugh and you ask what I’m laughing at, but by the time I go to tell you it strikes me as desperately sad so I fall silent as you pick up the crumbs from your plate. One by one you lift them to your mouth, and one by one they disappear. You grin like a cat. You fidget then complain of bellyache and slide down your chair making strange shapes with your mouth. You look like a fish out of water. You are a fish out of water, as am I. You know I could quote a Pink Floyd lyric here, but you get the gist. Kicking your feet under the table like a naughty kid, you slump in the chair unable to pull yourself up and so you just sit there giving me your sad face while batting your eyelashes. Help, you say. Help me! Getting up and walking around the table, I reach out my hand and place it on the side of your face. Those outside in the rain can’t hear my words, but you do, and just as I hoped, that grin of yours spreads itself across your lips until it reaches mine. It’s just another day. Another gloomy afternoon where the weather gets into your bones making you feel as dreadful as everyone else, and yet here we are, shining as we so often do.