Nick and I fell out today. At Wellesborne Market. We made up within twenty minutes, but it left me miserable for the day. It later transpired that it was all my fault; I had interpreted his grunt as a demand to change the subject, he was grunting a thought that he should do something to support what I had been talking about. I imagine that wars have been started based on the meaning of a grunt. On the plus side, we bought a good cheesecake: choccachino, oh yes!
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