And good riddance


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Emma’s persistent and annoying cough appears to have deserted her for another. Although it seems to have been around for ages, it will not be missed. I will not even miss the tight grip of those involuntary contractions I felt if Emma happened to cough while we were making love. (Funny how one notices these things.) We celebrated the cough’s departure [not to mention Lowri’s] with a prolonged petting and snogging session in front of a blazing fire last night. Well okay, it was only an electric coal-effect fire, but the thought was there. Oh, how I have missed those wet, open-mouthed kisses, with Emma’s probing tongue gently reminding me of what we would be doing later. The kissing hadn’t stopped altogether, but for the past fortnight they have been no more than a chaste touching of sealed lips, as if Emma’s saliva were as deadly as hemlock. When it was almost time for bed, I drank a very special toast to Emma’s return to health (and my return to good spirits).

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