Michael
I sit, staring at nothing, thinking about…
… Nothing…
Maybe I should get something to eat?
My gut’s griping. I’ve not eaten all day. Sally brought me one of her usual offerings for lunch; a plate-sized bacon and egg sandwich and a can of beer, but the smell turned my stomach.
Scruffy ate well though along with Kirstie’s tribe, running wild around the gardens in hairy, waggy, excitable enthusiasm.
The pint-sized rag-tag lies by my feet. Occasionally he looks up at me, whining. I scratch his ear and he settles again.
There’s no sign of James and Charlotte other than James’ tablet on his armchair and a book, marker inserted, on Charlotte’s favourite spot on the settee. With no real interest, I look at the cover. ‘A Song of Ice and Fire - A Dance with Dragons.’
The scent of som
