...with the dogs that carry fleas...

they're at ease and like peas in a pod, I plod onwards going forwards and scratching occasionally.
and sometimes when I look back I can see the third man even if it isn't snowing,

She says,
what are you going on about?

I tell her that sometimes I had four or five books on the go at a time, delaying that excruciating moment of turning the last page.

I don't want the 'spirit in the sky' when I die
I want a library in the sky
I want Mum's apple pie
I want to see
if the never ending story ends.

meanwhile
Chaucer makes a good companion
and he's quiet.