House Rules

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I’d told myself, anyone even vaguely attractive must be struck off the list.

Enter Alessandro: half-Italian, half-South African, whole hot.

Tour of the flat completed, we sat down (on different sofas, unfortunately) and proceeded with the standard Q&A.  He was a television producer who had ‘sold his soul’ to a large corporate.  The thought of Alessandro’s corrupted soul was oddly distracting.

‘So you’re a writer?’

I giggled, and twirled my hair.  Yes I did.

‘Well, yes.  I write a blog.’

‘Oh, that’s cool!  What’s it about?’

More giggling and generally acting like an idiot.


Sarah is moving in next month.

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