Jeremy Frost
if I had undergone something of an epic trial, you know, something
on the same level as that chap Nelson Mandela. It did feel really
good though, lying there warm, clean and naked like a born again
millionaire. I felt rich, powerful and most importantly grateful.
Having a flair for the dramatic, I took a deep breath in and said out
loud,
"I am resilient!"
“God, Robin, I’m sorry. I just started drinking from a bottle
of red wine and forgot all about you.” Fedor explained in
melancholic monotones the next day.
“No problems, is it still okay to maybe stay for a night or
two?”
“Yeah, yeah. I am sorry. I just started drinking and forgot
you know? He confessed. I began to suspect Fidel had a drinking
problem.
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