I don't like these kinds of stories:
Tomorrow we report very early in the morning for a required medical exam that was set in motion at the point we validated our French visas. I refuse to go into much detail about it except to say it is compulsory, brief, simple, and nothing to worry about.
And I dread it.
I have dreaded it from the moment it was scheduled back some time in December.
I like these kind of stories:
I was reading to my darling wife, as we do each night. Our current book is an Agatha Christie mystery chosen not least because it involves the Blue Train, the train that back in the Agatha Christie days went overnight to the Cote D'Azur. It is one of the novels featuring Hercule Poirot. He shows up a bit late in the procedings. Then everyone gets off the train. And then there's a scene...
...that takes place a five minute walk from where we were sitting reading.
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