“So this is where that miserable old hunchback seduced the widow over her murdered husband’s coffin?” I mused into the rainy morning. “Huh?” Andy muttered between her clattering teeth. “I said, ‘So this is where—‘” “I heard what you said,” she snapped, “but tell me said you said.” Don’t judge… Continue reading York: Tradition Running Amuck
I sighed, threw a rain jacket into the suitcase, and sighed again. I was heading back to the dankest capital I’ve known, and I wasn’t happy about it.