The Language Of Love

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CC Image courtesy of chrisinplymouth on FlickrCatherine, about to leave, turns back. ‘Oh and… don’t fall in love with the new flatmate.’

‘Why, is he hot?’ I say. ‘Or is it just that he’s male and has two legs?’

‘Yeah… and he’s tall.’

Sounds hot. ‘I think I might get up.’


The bathroom door is open and a guy I don’t recognise is standing at the sink, washing his hands. He looks up, says something to me.

‘I err I’m afraid I don’t speak German.’

‘Oh you don’t live here?’

‘No, I’m a friend of Catherine’s.’


She looks up from her computer. ‘What is it?’

‘Yeah we might have a problem.’

CC Image courtesy of pensiero on Flickr

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