‘Now this is living the life of Riley.’
‘Who the heck is Riley?’
‘Dunno.’
‘Then how do you know that this is living Riley’s life?’
‘I don’t. It’s just something you say.’
‘But why? What did the guy do?’
‘Never mind. Don’t get up. You’re ruining my chilled-out Sunday afternoon.’
‘I’m not. You are. I’ll have to look it up, otherwise I can’t relax.’
‘I can’t relax with you typing on that old, clunky keyboard of yours.’
A FEW BEATS OF SILENCE, PUNCTURED BY KEYSTROKES
‘You know where it comes from? American soldiers writing letters home from the front in WWI. Probably propaganda So, none for me, thanks.’
***
This is my very late story for this week’s MFtS (you know, moving etc., so it may take me a while to read all the stories).
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And it is a lovely story! Thank you for stopping to write your piece. I hope that the move went well!
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Thank you, Barbara! Move wasn’t too bad, actually. Hope your treatment is going well!
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It is. See my note on Mondays post for Monday.
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