The road to the common passes our kitchen window. It is like a daily private showing of Crufts. An old man with curly hair and a suntan matching the colour of his overcoat limps by. He is led by a brown wire-haired Dachshund, also elderly but more agile than his human. The dog waits, they exchange glances. A smile and a corresponding twitch of ears. They move on. I drink my tea.
myeccentricfriend 1 Minute
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Writer searching for a voice. Random thoughts on the Everyday View all posts by myeccentricfriend