The Grand-Father Clock, tock…tock…tocked reassuringly in the corner of the oak panelled study.
Through the window to one side the ancient time piece’s Big Brother could be discerned dominating the metropolitan sky-line…
Tee, was wilfully oblivious of the time.
He deliberately shuffled the pile of predominantly red and black images on his large teak writing desk for the third time and shifted uneasily in his racing green, leather upholstered, swivel chair.
Then he snorted…
It was the snort of a man determined to do something, somehow, anyhow, about whatever it was that currently irked him.
Reblogged from France and Vincent