“You’re looking down in the mouth.” Teddy had said. Earnest waited. He knew more was coming. More was always coming. Teddy sidled up to it.
“Bill and I were just saying… ‘Ernie is looking *decidedly* down in the mouth.’ he said to me.”
Earnest, who *decidedly* didn’t like anyone, least of all Teddy,... Read more
“They’ve been sat still for 38 minutes. It’s clear they’ve just dug in to defend their flag. I say…”
“You say…” 117 interrupted his Squad Leader, who couldn’t have looked more pissed.
“John, enough of your shit!” He slid a finger across his throat in what he knew would be a futile gesture. “We’ve got the same tacticals as Red... Read more
Three new followers, this morning. Steady growth. Not YouTube Channeller level. Not like millions of subscribers. But that was to be expected.
A few more Views. Five new followers. Already! She was clearly having an impact, this quiet young woman, not wanting attention. Not seeking the lime light. Just tryng to escape a stalker. Not... Read more
He had climbed the steep Acropolis, seeking Athena Parthenos (the virgin), every time work or pleasure or strange fates called him to Athens. Yet today he paused by the Temple of Dionysis, only about a third of the way up the olive treed slope. One of the several custodians, some in plastic and metal cells, others, like this young... Read more
Froniga, or Fron (as most of her US friends and relations called her) was a patient sort of soul. More in touch with her forebears than many Americans, perhaps because she was closer to her immigrant roots than most. She'd married into the "Land of the Free" as much as she had been born there, not really... Read more
It was the quiet way Fron did the simple things - anticipating a glass of water, settling to a joint task, silently prompting something urgently forgotten - that Wilhelm noticed more than anything else. She would just eye smile at him when he, yet again amazed at her casual thoughtfulness, would gratify his... Read more
That part of New York was home to several artisan outlets and small, incubated, cottage industries. Rather like a hipster vision of battery farmed chickens, Wilhelm noted. Right next door to his bakery - Purveyor of the Finest Home-Baked Goods* (* all dietary requirements catered for) - he was aware dimly of a bespoke... Read more
I'll do anything… No, not that!
Wanted. Crib. Last one sold prematurely.
Laugharne - pronounced "Laaarnn" to rhyme with yarn, but rolled out a little further - at night, with the graveyard gently graced by the occasional working street light and our torches. Us searching for interesting stories told on the tombs and plaques of the interred locals, who at times had meant something to the small... Read more