28 November 2023
Here is the third in my series of fifty-word stories based on this photograph.
I hope you’re enjoying them.
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Arthur always saved me his nicest cuts of rump steak, even during the war.
‘But the boy’s stopped eating meat,’ I said.
‘Here.’ Arthur winked. He dropped a greaseproof parcel into my shopping bag. ‘Stew these until the meat’s dropping off the bone. He can suck them like lollipops. Lovely.’