age 27 - the gangster's moll
Winter gets a bad rap, but I can remember some of the good things that happened in winter when I used to live in a cold country. Like when you're at a weekend party at a country house, by a huge bonfire, and your mate's lovely sister walks right up to you and kisses you hello full on the lips, and now you love her more than anything. Later you lure her away for a moonlight walk by the lake, then suddenly you're inside each other's jackets, all warm and cosy, and you forget that the husband back at the house is a gangster. Allegedly of course. Then on the way back, you split up so you that don't enter the house suspiciously together. But she never arrives, and all the folk at the party become a search party, and you join them in the woods, pretending you don't know why she's disappeared. People are worrying she might have drowned, but then somebody finds her safe and asleep, in your tent. Husband asks why she was in there, and you say search me mate. Next w
