I'm sorry Andrew.
I was 15. You were 14. It was a snowy Saturday morning. I was walking home having finished my paper round with my weekly £6 earnings.

I found a £10 note on the floor and continued my walk home. That's when I saw you. You looked really worried and upset. You asked if I had seen a £10 note as you had lost one and had started re-tracing your steps in an attempt to find it.

I looked into your eyes. I saw the sadness in your heart. I heard the melancholy in your words. And I knew what had to be done.

"sorry mate, not seen one"

And then I bought sweets and football stickers.

Sorry Andrew.
(Frample Tromwibbler climbs an obstacle like old people fuck, Sat 19 Jan 2013, 11:54, 3 replies)

Isn't this an Enid Blyton story?
If I remember rightly, what happened next was the sweets made you really sick so you couldn't go to Jeannie's birthday party and you confessed the whole tale to your mother, who made you take some money from your money box and return it to Andrew with an apology.
I'm glad you learned your lesson in the end.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Sun 20 Jan 2013, 8:54, closed)

Wow.
That is mean.
(badgermonkey007, Mon 21 Jan 2013, 14:22, closed)

Thanks mate.
That was the money Blue Peter raised to buy me a new bumbag.

Se'sly. Thanks

Andrew
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Tue 22 Jan 2013, 22:14, closed)