I’m not entirely sure how we started talking about our bedroom routine. It’s a fairly curious topic of conversation for strangers. Unless of course you count the first time I was abducted by aliens and interrogated for hours on the colour of my socks.
‘No I don’t have any habits.’ She said. ‘I just have my Seven Offs. I lock the front door and check it. Twice. Bottom lock first. Then the outside light; kettle, toaster, kitchen light; television, DVD, lamp. Only when I’m certain it is totally dark downstairs, I go up.
‘Then I count my pyjamas in my draw.’
I wondered why.
‘To make sure they are all there. Obviously.’
She looked at me as though I was stupid.
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