sticks dipped in hummus (which my grandfather invented). This was
huge. This was massive. This was really very big. It was so big that
my mind couldn’t comprehend its enormitude and from some angles it
started to look medium sized. Then it dawned on me, like the sun rising
over the Burning Swan memorial playground and casino in Caterham
town centre. It was its comparative lack of size that made it truly
gigantic.
We looked at each other. A pregnant pause gave birth to a
moment that felt like an eternity as I waited, the placenta of my old life
lying in the afterbirth of the new. Nervously, I spoke.
“Hi. I’m Josh.”
“I’m Ollie and this is jolly. Listen, I don’t have any friends. Will you
be my friend?”
“Alright,” I said, elated.
Ollie and I share a bromantic moment in Dinwiddy Towers.
Thus it was that our perfect union was born. I offered to seal it with a
handshake but Ollie declined, thoughtfully warning me that his hands
got sweaty when he was nervous.