It could have been the sandwich or perhaps the dainty black leather coin purse with the silver snaplock lying on the table. Certainly something here was Not Right. Turning over the cover of the faded log book, flipping a little then opening it to a page marked with a pen, scanning down rows and rows of dates and times scrawled in blue ink. Today's date was there on the very last row. Check in time - 7pm. Checkout time - blank. Nom de gardien, nom de chien. Name of guard, name of dog. Name Of Dog. We ran.(AUD 9.73)
READ THE REST@ SLEEPYCITY.COM,and yes i was shouting.
1 comment:
Cheers cap'n.
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