Shakespeare got home late, navigated the walls. Everyone was abed. He could tell by the silence that his wife was not asleep. He didn't want a scene. That his cloak would be pungent with tobacco was a foregone conclusion. He sighed at the prospect of the withering glare to come. But once upstairs he found his fears had been misplaced: his wife Anne lay fast asleep, a look suspiciously serene on her face. It had been years since he'd seen that look. What could it be, he wondered. Then it dawned on him: he was not there sleeping beside her.
Sue Clayton
26/11/2022 02:58:08 am
There must be something in the reason for Mrs Shakespeare's repose that would be worth writing a play about. "Much ado about nothing"
Ceri Marriott
26/11/2022 06:39:59 pm
Enjoyed your story, Myram.
Geraint Williams
28/11/2022 04:47:14 pm
Both comments much appreciated, thank you.
Myram Huey
4/1/2023 03:45:10 pm
Both comments much appreciated, thank you. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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