Almost: a goose-bumpy wind from the north east had allowed only a grim eating of ice creams.
Narked, the atrocious woman in a bikini, breasts like crab apples, dragged her insistently grizzling son towards their B&B. Ibiza next year, no messing.
And leaning against a parapet an old man wept.
© Tim Scott
All rights reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment