The internovella - part 2.

Having drawn the curtains, her knees aching with the strains of life, she plonks into the armchair. William will be brewing her tea - ah gin, she thought, if only he would bring the berry of the juniper, it brings sleep and memories, fond memories of a distant time, whilst tea was invented by slave traders and bosses to keep you awake all of the time and ruffles the conscience. Nobody ever slept on tea or the infamous coffee.

She leaned back and felt herself dozing off but was sudenly aware of a glint, refecting off of a distant star or the candle she had lit when the curtains closed. But no, it was William, playing silly buggers , plodding as usual, with a candle firmly planted, in the middle of her cuppa. "Is that a metaphor, William? ". "No", he replied in a razor voice - "I was just thinking of when I was a man, a boy and had so much more spunk in me.Where has it gone, Sarah"

Gord Tobe continued