Speaking of serving her up…
Shall I talk of bliss? I didn"t know but maybe, just maybe, the next hour would be bliss. I"d gotten the idea then and there, in Mitre Square, after the prying copper had nearly nicked me, while still kneeling over the slut"s fresh steaming innards. I"d come home and preserved the pieces of meat I"d collected, hoping beyond hope for such an opportunity.
The late Mr Griggs was, by all accounts, a fine shoemaker, whose passing had created a tear in the fabric of the local society. It also created a wonderful place for me to play, owing to Mrs Griggs" refusal to get rid of anything her husband once owned or used. His shoe shop, long closed but otherwise untouched, was loaded with all a boy could need for all sort of sport.
With the hand pump in the small back ya
