She stands before me, her chest heaving, trying to draw in air after her brief dash. “I’m sorry that I’m a couple of minutes late (deep breath)... my mum couldn’t pick up John until just after seven,” explains Rita, dragging in more heavy breaths. I look closely at her face and see the worry in it. Her eyes are a little wider than normal. In an unbelieving voice I reply, “Last week I told you to be here an hour earlier.” Leaving a few seconds gap I continue, “And now you’re telling me some. .. Well if he thinks I’m gonna come crawling back then he’s wrong. ... That’s it, it’s his turn to be sorry!”With that he turned and walked slowly back home. He got back and sat down on his bed. He was exhausted and badly needed to sleep so he removed his clothes and climbed into his soft warm bed. He was so tired that he didn’t even bother to brush his teeth. He just clambered into bed, pulled the sheets over himself and slept, instantly. He went out like a light.***The next morning Daniel. More

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