There’s nothing like a run

Run? Leave it out Vernon.

Run? Leave it out Vernon.

Section 92 is home

In the morning he awoke to find the sun streaming in through the hastily drawn curtains. It was six and there was washing, shopping, and lesson preparation to do among other things. He breakfasted on the decking with the cat sprawled at his feet and began to write a list. Perhaps with just three more days to go before the weekend and then a return to work his priorities were to get the house in order and then tomorrow attend to some curriculum planning. Maybe a run would help too after the grilled breakfasts and gastronomic excitements each evening had ended with. He’d had plenty of walking exercise but there was nothing like a run.

Something began to tickle his memory like wayward nasal hair and it bothered him as he loaded the washing machine and cleared the fridge of items no longer fit for human consumption. ‘The Letter’; that was it.

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