Cruelty

Mrs Booty has a really angry virus which has caused her to lose her voice. The dog and I can hear the birds in the trees, the gentle rustle of grass as we walk. What we can't hear is the gust of wind as Mrs Booty's backswing prepares to flatten both of us for taking the Mick out of her.

Last night I muttered my usual entreaty for her to sleep well. The reply I received almost caused me to jump out of bed and seek assistance. It sounded as if a hairy arsed stoker had climbed into the other side of the bed. "Goodnight darling," basso profundo, through razor blades, is as close as I can get to describing the experience. Needless to say sleep was difficult, well would you sleep with both eyes shut if there was a stoker alongside you?

Silence is Golden, - Tremeloes.