Daily Writing Blurb

He spent most of his time in that corner of the garden; she commented on it often, exuding disappointment. He would nod, smile into his soup, and consider what book to take with him the following morning. What his wife didn't know, couldn't possible know, was why he chose that particular tree each morning. On the estate next door, there would pass a young woman; he assumed she was a maid in the house but she returned with new fascinating books and he knew he would love her if he could only work up the nerve.

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Photo: Jack Batchelor, Flickr.