Alexander, on June.

Alexander: And my semi-obscure French word for June is rightfully, in my opinion anyway, “frisson”.

Two friends, on marriage on a cliff.

Alexander: Isn’t there something so much more romantic about getting hitched in a setting devoid of human touch — a place not shaped by anyone’s ideas and ideologies but your own? When you decide to let nature be your cathedral, your love becomes the architect.

Cecily: No! I want our relationship to be strong enough to blossom in reality — a reality shaped by previous architects and heavy expectations and other people’s disdain.

Two friends, on profiteroles.

Cecily: Profiteroles are rather inspiring in the bedroom, I hear.

Christian: Don’t they crimple up under the pressure ? And the cream ooze out ?

Cecily: Quite right. They’re just fun little metaphors rolling around in our purses, waiting for the right moment to be brought out to ooze.

Christian: You keep profiteroles in your purse? An eclair might be more up your street.

Cecily: Eclairs, in my experience, beg to be eaten as soon as they’re bought. They’re just so damn desirable. But as a sexual presence, they’re too obviously dickish. And dicks aren’t really all that attractive. As a creative, I favour subtlety. Society has hopefully evolved beyond the phallus.

Christian: And so you start referring to testicular metaphors instead. Original.