I’ve got to get more Hobnobs

Just had a useful insight into A’s 15-year-old thinking.

He came down (the only 1 of 3 to answer my text) and helped me load logs from number 8’s back yard to number 4’s (we’ve shared a load).

I said: Fancy a cup of tea?

He said yes, and added that he’d just get the biscuits….

We drank tea, and I ate a chocolate Hobnob, and he had one or two, and he told me about The Mountain Goats – which is just one US musician, apparently, who plays the guitar, sings (I’d say influences Courtney Barnett) and has done 17 albums…

Before A suddenly announced: I have to revise!

He went just as quickly as he’d come…

I just found the screwed-up wrapper of the Hobnobs in the kitchen rubbish. I ate one; he ate a dozen…

For as long as the Hobnobs held out, he was prepared to stay, but the minute they’d gone…

I’ve got to get more Hobnobs.


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I had a stroke on July 26th, 2013. I was a screenwriter. Don’t do that anymore. But have found another way to write.

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