>Written on a just under 15 minute train trip home after an afternoon of food and chat with the girls in Oxford. First time I’d seen two of the three since December. Fun times.
I’ve got a right rattle going on he said
What sort of a rattle she asked
A chesty one
Oh you can buy chesty rattles then can you? I didn’t know that. I’ll have to look out for one.
You’re going to look out for one?
Yeah, of course I am, I’d love to have one.
I would. Seriously. Sounds like it could be a lot of fun.
Fun?!?! He fumed. Fun?! It’s not fun. It’s horrible. I hate it. I wish I could get rid of it.
Oh so maybe you could sell it to me?
Would that I could. I could definitely use the money.
I’m working on this new piece you see and I think a rattle might be just what it needs to finish it off. She mused thanks for that I’d been completely stuck for, like, actual days on what was wrong with. A nice deep chesty rattle could be just the thing.
She looked over at her companion expectantly but he simply held up a hand signalling her to wait. He couldn’t speak just then as he was in the middle of a really bad coughing fit.
As she listened to him cough and struggle for breath, realisation dawned
Oh shit. She exclaimed. I’m an idiot aren’t I? You weren’t talking about a rattle as in an instrument but a rattle as in a bad cough. Oh. I’m so embarrassed.
Don’t worry about it he said smiling at her.
Suddenly she started laughing at herself. Her companion joined in and they laughed and laughed. Until the laughter made him cough again.