(click to enlarge image)The night air was thick with moisture brought on by another July downpour as the large Mercedes hurtled through the park’s dark glades, a dim reminder that the summer was going a little like the business – slow and with disappointing results. Smelling almost as seductive as the air itself, the doctor reached for his attaché, clutching another remedy in his bottomless arsenal. This one would last, he chuckled to himself, at least until he was due at the event. Sniffing the air with caution, he lowered his chin to the window frame, feeling its bullet-proof glaze chaffing his freshly gilletted skin, sensing its vulnerability. Beauchamp Place seemed a little different from how he remembered it, not quite so many rangers, perhaps a few more recent arrivals, though just as much attention to the shop front cosmetics. If he pitched his next lunch with just the right amount of right, he might just land that deluxe parking bay he’d been eyeing up, taking 7 and a half minutes off the trip to the Therapy Power Bootheque. He noticed with his usual precision that the 53 was obscured by the throng of excited bodies huddled under the new canopy, a well-lit lesson in how to stand in line when such an event was in store. Signalling his appreciation to the driver, he slowly placed one brogue in front of the other, steadying his restrained joy as he headed for the threshold.
No comments:
Post a Comment