The Demanding Dead*

“I’m planning to invite you for dinner, do you eat Indian food?” the message comes through from MediaChap.
“Yes!  My best food :)”  I reply.  “Would that be Wednesday dinner?”
This is very exciting: MediaChap is going to cook for me.  Or maybe he is going to order a take-away, I think.  Hope not: don’t tend to enjoy take-aways as they always seem to be cold by the time they arrive. Still: he is inviting me round for dinner, whether he’s cooked it himself or not, which is nice.  Hopefully his flat is somewhere that I can get to and it’s not overheated – don’t like it in other people’s homes when it’s too hot.  It makes me feel ill.  Wonder whether he lives anywhere near a station.  Must find out where it is. Don’t want to be walking around unfamiliar area on own in the dark…
“Hmmmm am plotting.  How much writing have you done today?” he says.
“None yet.  Am at my office.  But blog will get written.” I tell him.
“Ah, OK.  I’m aiming for 1000 words a day,” he says.
“Sounds good.  And achievable.  Happy to do writing together if you want?  I mean writing our separate things, but in the same room…” I say. Have always found writing with a chum to be productive.
“Good idea, but would we get any work done?  Are you an Edith Wharton fan?”
“Have read her,” I say.  Which is true.  She’s not a particular favourite author of mine. Wonder whether he has bought me an incredibly valuable Edith Wharton first edition or something.  That would be nice.
“Ah. There’s a lecture on her next week,” he says.

If either of these plans happen, it will be a Fourth Date with MediaChap, which is quite an achievement. Maybe ought to book a venue and a caterer…

*a book of ghost stories by Edith Wharton.

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