Old Mr Millar
Mr Millar smiled to himself when he saw thirty year old Jenny Williamson stepping out from her rear porch. His mood had not been good that morning. For over three weeks the cities heat-wave had rolled on and Millar had been cursing it each and every day. Outside was desperately humid and inside even worse. It reminded the old man of his time in Korea were every menial task was of up-most effort. Already Millar was resigned to drinking beer in his garden and listening to his old portable radio....