Slowly, slowly

He had fallen in love with the nape of her neck. Her strong jaw. The dignity of her dress. He had never seen her face. Faithfully, he kept his back turned. Waiting.   Only when the two bufoons arrived was he besotted. Her voice: Smoky, lingering in her polite rebuffs. He felt┬áher listening to their…

If the zombies do ever come…

I get a bit worried sometimes. In truth, quite a lot. In the midst of complete serenity and ease, I can feel a ripple of anxiety. About anything. At any time. Whether the ripples turn in to waves is arbitrary. One recurrent worry is the threat of an apocalypse. Actually, thanks to reading a certain…