Tadpole hunting with a fishing rod (Rousse)

GK sheepishly walked back into my life when his marriage came to an abrupt end. I knew this immediately, the evidence writ large across the tan line on his wedding ring finger.

It seemed that GK regarded my parents’ house as a safe retreat. He hadn’t considered that other people would think the same, so was rather disappointed when he had to fight with African forced migrants for sofa space at bedtime. Nevertheless, the next morning (on very little sleep) he was a willing participant in family activities and came tadpole hunting – with a fishing rod.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s