Freewheeling down the hill, sweeping round the bend then pedalling hard to maintain his speed as the road flattened out, Frank felt the sheer joy of rushing through the air and the early morning sun o
Keith Fleming from HR is talking to me but I say nothing. I don’t need to. I know from experience that he’ll keep talking whether I respond or not. Possibly whether I’m even here or not.
Alan wanted to write a short story. His wife tried to stop him, but it was no use. He made himself a cup of tea, climbed the steps to his attic-room study and sat down at the computer.