A confession

With respect to the burning of my marriage certificate: the truth is, I could only find a photocopy of it. Knowledge of this has been on my conscience and I had to come clean. 

I have a box I keep important things like passports and now defunct E111 cards (😞) in, and I expected to find it there. 

Perhaps I had to hand in the marriage original, in order to get a divorce certificate? But that wasn’t in the box either. So god only knows where either are. More memories I’ve buried away, both literally and metaphorically. 

Anyway, I burnt the photocopy. Obviously the ceremony  was a bit lacklustre owing to the absence of ink on parchment, especially as the whiff of white sage was really starting to pi** me off. But on some level it achieved what I intended it to. And I may get another bash at it in future, if the real one turns up.