On Friday night after work, Dad came in through the door, wrestling with a five-foot Nordman Fir wrapped in plastic mesh. It slid out of his arms and he dropped it in the hallway.
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It was their happy ending. Stephen and Sarah signed into the hotel in Venice as Mr & Mrs Russell, and it was the first time they had ever done that, and they smiled. They marvelled at the splendour of the place they had chosen from the brochure in the travel agent’s. They brought their bags…
Continue readingI sat at my desk, flicking through the Times and wondering how I was going to make the rent. Taking in washing suggested itself. Then Doris buzzed in a couple of potential clients. The tall one was wringing his cap in his hands like a washcloth after a shower. The other, shiny faced and fat, fixed me with…
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