Devouring the Dead (Book 1)
“Philip looked at his wife with mock disdain. “I think we can and we shall and we will.” He poured the red wine into the wine glasses that were still dirty from the night before, picked them up, and walked back around to the plump leather chairs where they were sat. He handed his wife a glass.
“So what shall we do today, Kate?” He raised his glass to toast her and his face fell when she refused to raise hers.
“I’m serious, Philip, we can’t muck around forever.” Kate put her wine down on ...the glass table and put one hand to her temple. “Besides, I’ve got a headache.”
“Ah-ha, I knew it! You’re just a lightweight.” Philip took a sip of wine and embraced the burn. They had spent all last night drinking, before succumbing to sleep on the very same chairs where they were now. They wore the same clothes as yesterday, the same clothes they had slept in. What choice did they have?
“Darling, I’m just going to remind you of one thing,”MoreLess
“So what shall we do today, Kate?” He raised his glass to toast her and his face fell when she refused to raise hers.
“I’m serious, Philip, we can’t muck around forever.” Kate put her wine down on ...the glass table and put one hand to her temple. “Besides, I’ve got a headache.”
“Ah-ha, I knew it! You’re just a lightweight.” Philip took a sip of wine and embraced the burn. They had spent all last night drinking, before succumbing to sleep on the very same chairs where they were now. They wore the same clothes as yesterday, the same clothes they had slept in. What choice did they have?
“Darling, I’m just going to remind you of one thing,”MoreLess
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