Waiting for Doggo
“I would have liked to see her flat, glimpse how she and Douglas live. If her desk is anything to go by, it’ll be tidy, ordered. I see white walls, wooden floorboards and magazines piled on a retro glass coffee table. Douglas is a banker, and in my experience bankers like their homes to have a whiff of scrubbed sterility. They don’t want brown furniture and threadbare Turkish rugs and wallpaper and arcane objects gathering dust on marble mantelpieces; they want clean, hard lines and big TVs and big fridges with not much in them.
I’ve offered to drive, which has meant giving the car its first good clean in more than a year, inside and out. I’ve even spread a blanket on the back seat for Doggo to lie on. He only knows Edie in a work context and I can see the confusion in his eyes as we load her bag into the boot. He senses something special is afoot.
Everyone thinks they’re a great driver, or so it’s said. I don’t. I know I’m too slow for most people’s tastes, and I don’t take any pride ...in fighting my way through city traffic.MoreLess
I’ve offered to drive, which has meant giving the car its first good clean in more than a year, inside and out. I’ve even spread a blanket on the back seat for Doggo to lie on. He only knows Edie in a work context and I can see the confusion in his eyes as we load her bag into the boot. He senses something special is afoot.
Everyone thinks they’re a great driver, or so it’s said. I don’t. I know I’m too slow for most people’s tastes, and I don’t take any pride ...in fighting my way through city traffic.MoreLess
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