The Red, the White, the Green…
Some things have to be believed
Before they can be seen…
…Even allowing for the earliness of the hour, there were far fewer students than he expected.
By long habit his steps found a familiar corridor and the worn stone rang underfoot.
It would not harm to hazard it.
How would the Old Devil be, he wondered.
‘Dr S. Eaves’
The name plate appeared unaltered.
He always read it as ‘sheaves’.
Before thought had a chance the polished oak door sounded a triple retort to knuckle-bone…
Probably an oversight to leave the plate there, afterall.
But then, a barely audible, “Hum!”
The door swung open…
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