Latte to go
‘… anyway, I told her to …’
‘Hey you, turn that thing off.’
‘… it’s just some bloke who …’
‘If you don’t turn that phone off, I’ll stick it so far up your arse, you’ll only be able to make internal calls.’
‘Who do you think you’re talking to?’
I stood up and although I’m the wrong side of seventy, at six feet two inches and seventeen stone, people tend to take notice of me.
He ran along the carriage and I could smell his fear and subsequent relief, when he realised that it was a sliding door.
About the Author
Roger is a regular contributor to the site and is featured in the Best of CafeLit 2012.
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