The country’s bears are one thing. Its tree roots are quite another. And then there is the gorse my wife tumbles into
I’m on a plane, in the middle seat between my wife – on the aisle – and a stranger who is occupied on her phone. I too am occupied, with work I should have finished before we left.
My wife, a nervous flyer, is in a restless mood. She snatches my laptop and begins typing. I wait, arms folded.
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