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“My one true love!” screams Husband, brokenly.

I try to respond, but gag on my tears. Wrenching myself out of the burly policeman’s clichédly vice-like grip, I stumble back into Husband’s waiting arms.

“I can’t live without you!” he whispers.

“Just . . . try your best,” I sob.

*sigh!* The glorious tragedy of it all! I almost regret being granted residency so soon. It was like having two versions of Husband: the real Husband, and an imaginary version tenuously modelled on the Husband template

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Comments on: "Still at the airport" (4)

  1. Congrats on the residency. They must know a good’n when they see one.
    Tragedy only works on paper….

  2. deadlyjelly said:

    I’m not so keen on the tragedy element, but I totally dig Andrew’s unrevealed romantic hero persona.

    I’m not sure what comes next. Possibly aliens and space battles, kind of George Lucas’ version of the Battle of Troy

  3. Funny – I kinda see Andrew as being the romantic sort of chap, much as he’d hate to admit it.

    Sorry you guys were so rushed the other day – Rest assured I am rigging up some backlights for my garage. That, along with a smoke machine, and a ghetto blaster with “let me entertain you” ready to play (ear -bleedingly loud i should add), should raise the bar somewhat when I usher you guys in next time. Either that or the front door – always funny to be conventional every now and again – right? 🙂

  4. deadlyjelly said:

    May I suggest some spooky instrumental with lots of electric guitar fuzz and woosh! sound effects.

    I can totally see you emerging out of the smoke in a Freddie-Mercury style pose. Wow, it’s a great look for you.

    Andrew? This is a man who popped the question in a bath and said, “Look, are you going to marry me or what?”

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