What did you have for tea last night? I asked. He couldn’t remember. I scanned his fridge, work tops and shelves. Looked in the bin. The only thing that had changed in twelve hours since we’d last seen him was the emptied box of wine. He had just…forgotten.
"Weren't you hungry?"
He shifted uncomfortably. Worse than forgetting, I realised - he hadn’t felt like it. Eating was becoming just too much trouble.
Anyone up for a new, extreme-sport supper club experience? You know where to come.