EveningsYou switch on the radio, tuneinto a golden-oldie station. You enter the bathroom and run the taps, remembering to close the plug and add the foam. You undress and slide into the water and lie back with a book, a towel behind your head, perhaps. You half-listen to the music. You feel relaxed and warm, content until the thoughts come: no-one to talk to, no-one to listen. You hum Yesterday.
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