Alexander
Every evening i receive a gift.
A cake, a fresh pineapple, a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice from the health-food deli two streets down.
Every morning I leave one in its stead.
A Belgian truffle, a tub of candyfloss, a selection of vintage cheese. Finally, on Friday morning, I leave her a bottle of wine.
It’s an expensive one, thoroughly extravagant. Ridiculously extravagant. I write her a note along with it telling her to enjoy her weekend.
It’s the craziest phenomenon, how this little gift exchange brightens my disposition.
I’ve been excited when I walk in through the door at night, smiling as I set out her daily surprise on the kitchen island before leaving for work.
So it’s no surprise that I’m feeling the disappointment now the weekend looms, knowing the hous
