I’m going to eat with a friend I haven’t seen in a while, which is inconsiderate. My friend tells me a problem. Since morning his girlfriend has been acting cold and impassive, as if she had done something terrible (but he, he insists, has done nothing wrong). Since I got into journalism, every time someone tells me they didn’t do something wrong, I wonder what they mean by wrong. Because perhaps he didn’t do anything bad to himself, but to the survival of the species. My friend finally tells me that his girlfriend dreamed that he was cheating on her. With hair and marks included pub and lover (the boy’s ex). “He hasn’t spoken to me since he woke up, what do you think?” he says. “Sounds good to me, we should see you.”
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