Sick on the Singapore Flyer
When illness strikes at the wrong time, romantic dinners become a torture. My wife took one look at me and knew she was on her own for the day. I was curled up on the bed in the foetal position, clutching the teddy bear we’d bought as a joke a couple of days ago. I had faint traces of vomit dribbling down my cheeks, and I suspect my skin was cadaverously pale.
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