51, divorced, technically still married to the village WhatsApp group. GSOH not required, in fact I'd rather you didn't laugh, it makes me nervous.

Widower. The shed has more emotional depth than most of my relationships did. Seeking someone who can sit next to a man staring at nothing for long periods without needing an explanation.

Just back from a fortnight in Thame, which has cured me of the idea that things get better anywhere. Seeking a companion for the long, slow decline, and someone who won't ask too many questions about the fortnight in Thame.

Retired postman. Thirty years of other people's letters and I still don't know what I actually want, except to be told the truth for once. Seeking someone who'll do that.

Widow, 58. I have needs, extensive ones, and after thirty-one years of pretending otherwise I have simply stopped. Seeking a man with stamina and absolutely no interest in discussing feelings afterward, or during.

Widow. My scones are bad and everyone knows it and nobody says it and I am exhausted by the lying. Seeking one honest man.

Retired security guard, forty years watching other people’s houses instead of my own. I know things about this street I am choosing, for now, not to share. Seeking someone who understands the value of information and won’t ask where it came from.

Retired headteacher. I still grade everyone I meet out of ten, including myself, including you, reading this. You're a six. Seeking an eight or above, I have standards even now.

Amateur astronomer. Telescope’s been pointed at next door for eleven months, not proud of it, not stopping either. Seeking someone with curtains, or the self-awareness I clearly lack.

Run the village quiz. Have never let anyone win, not once, not even the year Brenda's husband died the week before. Seeking someone who finds that admirable rather than concerning.

Twelve garden gnomes. Eleven speak to me. The twelfth, Trevor, has gone quiet since the incident, and I respect his boundaries. Seeking someone who understands that some silences are earned.

Never left home, never plan to. Looking for someone patient and softly spoken to tickle my feet while I fall asleep, no questions. My mother used to do it. She can't anymore. That's all I'm prepared to say about it, and if you need more than that, you're not the one.

Keep bees. Have opinions about them that have ended two friendships and one Christmas. Seeking a patient soul, or a hostage, at this point either would do.

Retired vicar. Technically still blesses things, unofficially, mostly out of habit and a lingering fear of what happens if I stop. Seeking someone who doesn't mind being blessed at inconvenient moments, such as during an argument.

Newly single, previously married to the WhatsApp group man (Ref. 0042, and yes, I've seen what he wrote, and no, none of it's a lie). Seeking someone who mutes notifications and a slightly less bleak outlook, though I accept that may be asking a lot of anyone in this village.