He’ll have a choice.
It all looks good on paper to the powers that be.
You are being far too abstract. These are real people.
Is he a bad influence? They infer that he is.
I know I can count on you.
Nothing to see here, folks, move along.
It’s the words that should concern you, he thinks at them.
It’s a hazard of isolation.
You’re such a star.
She was excited about this achievement of hers.
Of course, he thought: a photo op, always the main purpose of any ministerial visit.
He could scarcely believe his luck.
What clever thing have you done?
I think you’ll be pleased!
I couldn’t have done it without you.
You’ve certainly been stirring up some waves!
Happily, it has a liquor licence.
He doesn’t want her to think he’s hallucinating.
Yes, he’s a widower, but that doesn’t mean he’s available.
He didn’t see clearly where he was going, but he had to trust that he was going somewhere.
What made them tick? What did they want? Why did they do what they did?
Don’t start anything you can’t finish.
Know thine enemy, all the best authorities advised.
He would have to be more subtle.
At least he kept out of the liquor store, and the bars.
The silence began to get to him.
Shapes in clouds, faces in the leaves. They made him feel less lonely.
It wasn’t enough.
But what was his business?
The show rolled on, as shows do.
He wished to give the impression that he was dotty, but not too dotty. A loony but not a maniac.
I would like to live in the little cottage.
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