A few nights later, Greta awoke freezing, the duvet and quilt no longer sufficient enough to keep her warm. She reached across the bed, searching for Jimmy, but there was nothing left but an indention in the pillow. Where could he be?
Throwing on a threadbare robe, Greta crept through the house searching for her wayward lover. Tony was snoring softly on the sofa, his large frame comically sprawled over the cushions with a leg resting on the floor. She retrieved a fallen blanket off the floor to lay across her friend. He mumbled, rolled to his side, his snoring growing quieter.
The front door was open only a c***k. She pushed it gingerly. Standing in the center of the yard, gazing up at the night sky was the object of her search. Her footsteps crunched across the gravel, but he did not re
