I abhor her ingratiating manner, the sly puss.
“Your husband’s busy right now Mrs Adams, can I help?”
(Yes dear, you can tell him I found your hotel receipt.)
“Well it is rather important… and urgent …”
Her eyes gleam with interest. I pretend to consider.
“Perhaps I’ll leave a note. See he gets it, will you…?”
I scribble a note, and fold it over.
Later, the phone rings.
“Did I write Herpes, dear? Sorry, I meant to say I’d got Hermes, your mother’s cat. She’s gone on holiday. What? Of course I’ll help out in the office for a while…”
For one week only, at this time of the year, those of us in the UK receive the photo prompt at 7.30am. Early birds rule, OK. Rochelle, our fearless (or fearsome) leader seems to be awake at all hours of the day, however. Incidentally, I agree with her comment about Blogspot, and indeed any site where I have to fill in paperwork in order to ‘like’ or comment. Life is too short…