The soles of her feet were warming by the fire. A fresh martini quietly etched a perfect circle
on the rich mahogany end table. I was
sent to fetch the latest J. Peterman catalog.
Would she be there when I returned?
I wondered. Quickly, I
fastened my mailing address to the leg of the pigeon. “Off with you,” I whispered, returning only
to discover a missing olive.
1 comment:
Ah Man - always 3 olives! They are the best part!
Post a Comment