This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.
RULES:
Grab a book, any book.
Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
Find a snippet, short and sweet.
Post it.
from Page 56% of:
Wilf sits at the table staring blankly at his plate, and it’s obvious that eventually one of us will have to ask the burning question, and right now all eyes are on me. I clear my throat.
‘Everything all right?’ I say, trying to sound as casual as possible even though it’s glaringly obvious that everything is not okay. This is one of those moments in life that requires great seriousness and sensitivity and probably shouldn’t be handled in a pub after ten pints of beer.
Read Irresponsibly, but please Comment Responsibly