My Club, the Rising Sun of Dorchester Street
fiction
edward w pritchard
My club the Rising Sun of Dorchester Street of course and I should be home with my new wife. Tonight instead I am learning how to tie fishing flies here in the fishing room from Mr Walton while we sip cognac, VSOP, sadly French, we Brits can't seem to get Cognac up to French standards; pity.
London's a long ride by train from my house all the way out past Gatwick. I should be leaving but maybe a quick read here in the Library. The Mrs. will have to hold supper again. Second thought I could eat here.
I wonder what does she do while I am at the club. She's a good egg, no need to worry.
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