*
“All things considered… It’s not such a bad view for a beer garden.”
*
“Yet there’s nobody else here!”
*
“And those that are here, are inside, rather than at the Inn side.”
*
“If this were England…”
*
“I know. It’s what might be termed an ‘Off Road Inn!”
*
“Have you had any more thoughts on the riddle?”
Said Wen, ignoring my rather lazy puns and gazing
into the play of sun-light on the sea-water instead.
*
“None whatsoever, but I think we may be being
directed away from the interior of the isle.”
*
“And also from hotels.”
*
“Huh?”
*
“They’re pretty much the only thing we’ve seen by the road-side,
and there haven’t been too many of them.”
*
“And they’re vastly expensive.”
*
“What about here?”
*
“Already asked. No rooms. Or at least, not for the likes of us!”
*
“Yes, he was a little taciturn wasn’t he?”
Taciturn is such a wonderfully expressive word. It sums up the mood of this poem.
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Reblogged this on Stuart France.
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