Dreamaticus

I was finding it hard to cope on my own in the Paris hostel in the run-up to my wedding. Three feral children, who couldn’t even tell me how old they were, drove everyone mad running amok everywhere. They stole anything that wasn’t permanently fixed to the building. Their petty theft strategy was senseless: what use to them were random items of stationery, such as my 12 inch see-through plastic ruler?

I eventually cornered the three little rascals and gave them a hard talking-to. I explained how their current behaviours risked their long-term future happiness. Miraculously they paid attention and by the next day had transformed into charming mini-angels.

Meanwhile I still missed my family. My sister-in-law S’s gymnast friend G called over to me from the dance studio and asked when they were due. “Not until the end of the week”, I replied glumly. Then I spotted a tall dark cloaked figure turn the corner of the corridor. This changed everything: MS was here! I chased after him, rapidly calculating how much time we would have alone together before everyone else arrived. He smiled as I ran into his arms, yet was clearly still completely unaware of my secret feelings for him (which, incidentally, made him all the more attractive to me).

I was terribly disappointed when MS revealed that he would be spending all his time in Paris talking to France’s leading academic librarians – and none with me. However, when I stepped back to look at him more closely, I realised that it was not actually MS that I loved. His serge green greatcoat was the true object of my affections.