Rupert had asked me over the phone to meet him outside the corner bakery so that’s where I went – and waited, and waited.
Eventually he turned up. Why on the street outside the bakery I have no idea.
He said he would risk all by saying what he was going to say and blurted out that he loved me and he couldn’t think of anything else other than me and he was besotted and beside himself with infatuation and so on and so forth. Would I be his friend and could we go out?
I told him to jump in the lake. He left, and since I was there I went into the bakery and bought some buns.
Mmmmm. The dough that dare not speak its name.
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Oh Rupert, my heart aches for you. But, you’ll soon be 10 years old, and someone nice is moving next door to you.
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No bakery bun for you.
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Hah!
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Sort of like throwing a pie in his face! What ever happened to letting someone down gently? But at least the pies were at hand!
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I rather like the callousness of this story, and still giggle when I read about buying stuff from the bakery after all that drama!
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I am sure there is a name for the effect you have been creating of late, pairing grave subjects with the absolutely quotidian, and the latter being brought to bear upon the former in a repudiation of sorts.
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Thank goodness I had a dictionary at hand.
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Well, now that that’s over with…
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I suspect so!
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Thank goodness the buns made the trip worthwhile!
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!! I do like the callousness of the buns purchase!
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I hope someone calls me soon to confess their love for me in front of the grocery store. I could use some eggs.
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Oh you can have some of mine – I have neighbours on both side with chickens and both keep leaving a dozen eggs in the mailbox.
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