Graham

At eight o'clock we fought. At half past eight we fought again. At nine o'clock we sat down to tea and had a chat about China.
Holidays were sweet at that time. I remember feeling very happy. I think that Constantine felt happy too. She told me she was happy, though full of fight. After tea we fought some more then went to bed.
Organising a trip for three adults and twelve children to China is a difficult task. One has to juggle many things on paper and in one's mind. I wasn't up to the task so we went camping in France instead, living on fried fish and potato wedges. It's a personal thing, but I think mayonnaise is better than ketchup.
What do you think?
Son of a gun.
Pop goes the weasel.
Graham is a no-hoper, though his heart is played like jazz guitar. There was a time when he used to sing, back when we all were singing. He told us once, as he snaffled the air about him, that the real reason for beauty was to eat it. He had very long and slender fingers which pat at all the words which were spilling from his tongue and send them flying hither and thither. Quite some guy is Graham.
There's a little bit of Graham in everyone, that's what I think.
What do you think?