Short Story Preview: Sangria
Roger always hated Saturday afternoons.
‘Why?’ I asked him. ‘Why Saturday afternoons?’
‘Nowt to do.’
‘What about your girlfriend?’
‘What about her?’
‘Can’t ya spend some time with her?’
‘Maureen watches football, Saturdays.’
We sat in silence then – me and my mate. Sat and stared into our warm ales and nursed our dreams. Rog with his beaches, palm trees and sangria and me with my Lamborghini, hot totties and Monte Carlo.
‘Ever fancied an adventure?’ I asked, draining my glass.
Read more about Jane and buy Tea at the Opalaco and other Stories to continue the storyShare