It was a rainy day in Brighton. My friend Jenny had come to stay. She makes me laugh and smile and feel totally okay in the world. That's the best way a friend can make you feel, I think.
It was a rainy day in Brighton. But we went out anyway... We went to the Sand Sculpture Festival at Black Rock Beach, got soaked when the rain started to fall, took shelter by drinking tea in a shed, hopped on the Volks Railway to take us to the Pier, played on the 2p slot machine games (I won three pink penguin key rings; it became an addiction), took advantage of a dry spell to walk up to North Laine, had lunch and courgette cake at the perfectly named Little Bird on Kensington Gardens, popped in as many vintage clothes and charity shops as we could, feared more rain so caught the bus back to the flat and took a nap before heading out to see Brighton's Gay Men's Chorus as part of the Brighton Fringe Festival. They were fabulous. Jenny is fabulous. Life is fabulous.
Of course, when we woke the following morning it was a sunny day in Brighton... And then a few weekends later I enjoyed another sunny day in Brightonwith another fabulous friend.
Frances M. Thompson
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