Friday, July 14, 2006

"When did you say you're moving back to the cottage?"

"Hopefully the end of the month."

"Well I'm going to break your windows," he hissed. "And then I'm going to park my caravan across your drive, so you can't ever return."

I threw a consoling arm around his shoulder.

"Hard lines, Wallace," I said. "You had some bad luck there."