Tea With Psychopaths

Lawn tennis and Margaret’s selfish husband

Photo by Acharaporn Kamornboonyarush from Pexels

Her face was all at once rather grave. “I’m so terribly sorry,” she said.

“Whatever for?” I chimed in with everybody else. I was busy surreptitiously tugging the tablecloth to spur the last cream cake onward to its rightful owner. Me.



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Jon Scott

Jon Scott


Just another confused soul. Occasional scribbler of things. All views are someone else’s (probably)