"But, I digress," he said. He paused and I took a moment to wallow in the silence.
It was glorious.
He hadn't stopped talking for over ten minutes and he had deviated from the subject so far that I couldn't remember where we had started. When I say "we" I am being generous. I hadn't managed to get a word in. I'd even given up making listening noises or nodding at appropriate moments. He had no interest in whether I was listening or not, I realised.
He just wanted to talk at someone, or something.
I thought that perhaps if I wasn't here he would be talking to the wall, or to the pepper pot that sat on the table between us.
"Anyway," he said, shattering the welcome quietness. "Where was I?"
I waited for him to continue, but then realised - with horror- that he actually wanted some input from me.
"I..." I began, scouring my brain for the slightest clue about how the "conversation" had begun. "I'm afraid, I can't remember where you began."
I said, deciding that I really didn't care if he felt insulted that I wasn't following his every word.
...
