It was a Tuesday when my lunch date asked if I'd like some: 'Not for me,' I said. 'I don't do that stuff anymore.'
But as my mouth said no, the word yes bounced around my brain. I tried to ignore it. I was done with the needles and syringes, that was behind me.
Come Friday, though, it was late afternoon and I'd had a glass of wine after work. Inhibitions slightly loosened, I sent him a text, 'Actually, yes. But just a tiny bit.'
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