The Fall Of The Poet
"It's getting late." "Indeed." I didn't look up, my eyes still scouring across the typed pages before me, trying to locate another error. "You best go get him then. I've only just had that painting in the hallway restored." I got up with a heavy sigh and put down my pen. I looked over at Edgar just once before I left the room. He was wearing khaki slacks and a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his forearms submerged in the soapy water. The washing up was done and put away and...