When I got home I
suddenly realised I would never see these people again. I had been donating
blood in a nearby church, and I always enjoy that: all the people working at
the blood bank have always been nice to me. The guy who calls me his stalker,
for showing up at practically all of the donating venues, even knows my name,
and always comes over to joke around a bit. And in the UK, they won’t let you
donate more often than once every four months. It’s January now; by the time I
am allowed again it’ll be May! I’ll be moving to York then! I regretted not
having said goodbye. I might send a card… and I’ll keep on donating blood up
north!
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