Marius and I had an in-the-bed chat this morning about well, us.
(I have to resist the urge to call him Grasshopper, as Bryan has nicked him; but it just seems so appropriate.)
He was evasive and pretended like he didn’t want to look at me. But I persisted.
He really does . . .
Sorry, but this content is restricted to paying subscribers only.
Register here. Choose a monthly, yearly, or lifetime membership.
Then support risky writing here.