Sunday lunch

Spending an afternoon with Karen in the new pub in town (given its proximity to my gaff, technically it’s my new ‘local’). I ordered from an app, like a robot from the future would. Karen couldn’t manage all her chocolate and ice cream so I assisted her like the helpful, portly gentleman I am.

Afterwards we wandered to Cromwell’s, which was as lifeless as ever on a Sunday afternoon, but when you’re in good company it doesn’t matter.

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