The boy with the flashing shoes hand in hand with his mum is beating us and our engine and I hate myself for thinking that dress in the window of Selfridges dress with the price tag like a stabbing ha
Escalators. Escalators, for Christ's sake. The tourists from a country where moving steps are the flake on an ice cream dream (apparently), these tourists from some country
It's only now I'm pressing Equals, realising your faults are mine mirrored. In games you are hysterical and I forget myself and whine. I realise your faults, and mine