“Yeah. He’s great. I’m so happy for you both.” He laughed.
“We’ve been married five years now. You’re talking as if me and him have just got together.”
“No, I’m just, you know, I sometimes think that you’re lucky. So in love. And happy.”
“He wants a dog.” He smiled. “That’s our current debate. I mean, I wouldn’t mind a dog.”
“But I’d want a rescue. And I wouldn’t want a bloody Maltipoo or a Bichon. I’d want a wolf. You know, a proper dog.”
Nora thought of Voltaire. “Animals are good company...” “Yeah. You still want a dog?”
“I do. Or a cat.” “Cats are too disobedient,” he said, sounding like the brother she remembered.
“Dogs know their place.” “Disobedience is the true foundation of liberty. The obedient must be slaves.”
He looked perplexed. “Where did that come from? Is that a quote?” “Yeah. Henry David Thoreau. You know, my fave philosopher.”
“Since when were you into philosophy?” Of course. In this life she’d never have done a Philosophy degree.
While her root self had been reading the works of Thoreau and Lao Tzu and Sartre in a stinky student flat in Bristol,
her current self had been standing on Olympic podiums in Beijing.
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