“What would you say, Barnaby, if I told you I’d popped a little LSD before coming out on our walk today?”
“I’d say, Turn On, Tune In, Drop Out, you dirty old hippie.”
Elsie laughs.
That’s nice. Laughter’s been a rare commodity for her since her husband Phillip took ill and died in quick order earlier this year. Requiescat in pace. That’s all she wrote. Continue reading