It’s Lovely Here

It was a lovely day and JOAN PAUL found herself a lovely spot. Deep in the heart of Surrey, where the foxes still run. Far from the rushing, hissing, clanking noises of London.

“London is swingy,” said Joan, “but it’s lovely here. I could stay here all day, but foxhounds keep running over my feet and snapping at my feet. I didn’t realise everything was still so primitive. Gadzooks, here’s another bunch and they’re all drooly. James, fetch the car.”

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