The old man had already run out of berries by the time his wife stepped onto their back porch. He reminded her to buy more the next time she went out. Turdus migratorius were especially hungry this time of year.
“Speaking of common,” Mary said, placing a book on the coffee table.
James inspected the spy novel, a gift from an old friend.
“He named the main character after you,” she continued. “Apparently, he wanted a name that was extremely dull and uninteresting.”
James smiled. Leave it to Ian to make such a statement.
Always a flair for the dramatic.
The Weekday One Hundred 