Dead mackerel and a dead marriage (Rousse)

On the Sunday, we found dead mackerel strewn across the shoreline outside the hotel. I had hoped that we would spend the day together, but – as usual – TPR had other plans: to watch his friends play volleyball on the beach.

I stomped off to find a place to lounge in my dressing gown, all by myself, miserable for the rest of the day.

That evening TPR couldn’t understand why I would not play happy families in front of his parents.

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