The evening of the 13th arrived, and I shrouded myself in protective spells, and took one last stinking spoonful from the bubbling crockpot on my hob, thinking 'never again,' for tonight we shall dine like princes.
I was feeling a bit unsettled when I saw how misty the windscreen was in the car till I heard the cackle in the back seat and released that it was joke and it was spray mist.
I took another sip of wine and gazed at the photo once again in the light of the small table lamp, and then glanced around the room to try to find some inspiration.
Mother's instuctions not to scuff my new shoes were forgotten as I headed out the back lane and began wrestling with my tangled mess of emotion while kicking a crumpled Coke can towards the park.