5 July

Posted on July 04, 2011 by Captain P. Fawcett

I wince inwardly as my dining companion slurps at his consommé, his ruddy cheeks just visible above his tortured bowl, a perturbing globule of crab soup glistens, clinging to his moustache, hanging by a Damoclean thread poised to drop to the table cloth below. C.F.

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