As he lay there, head throbbing and eyes blinded by the sun, all he could do was think about the could-a, would-a, should-a’s.
Becoming a chef and owning his own bistro was something Alfredo had always dreamt of. What he lacked in experience… Read more Alfredo’s Bistro
It was her turn to wash up, of that he was sure.
It wasn’t so much that they were bad kids, far from it…
8pm, he’d proposed. Early enough for the warmth of the early summer’s day to still be lingering, and late enough for the skies to be kissed by night.