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| The Western Front |
Two men sat
at a table, freshly-made tea in a pot.
“Who’s
coming for lunch?”
“Who’s
coming for dinner? A man, a rabbit, a dragon.”
They
nodded.
“Here it
is, old chap, have a cupper and hold your breath.”
There was a
pause.
“So I went
fishing this weekend.”
“For what?”
“For a
crooked sense of humor. For an icy stone-hard face, for a dangerous predator.”
“Yes, even
the cat is in on this.”
They
nodded.
“This is a
place where people can disappear, old chap.”
“Definitely.”
They sipped
their tea and sat in silence for quite some time.
“It took me ages to find my head, you know.”
“I know.”
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