Daniel Owen

By DanielJOwen

Blue velvet

We went to Bude. No one was rude nor, sadly, nude. We had some fude, which was quite gude. It was a pleasant interlude.

Mrs O said, "you're never in any of your blipfotos." She was amused that I had chosen bubble gum flavoured ice cream (channelling my inner seven year old). I am squinting into the sun and not, as it appears, convinced that my ice cream is a recording device into which I should dictate my deepest thoughts. Don't be silly. That only works with the strawberry flavour.

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