She gathered up the tattered clothing, staring hard at the tarnished buttons with their two-headed eagle. She knew, then, what he was. The long boots,...soles worn through and bound with rags, the ragged dolman. She muttered to herself and crossed herself sketchily. This was the hated enemy, the ravisher of Mother Russia. Confusion seized her. She had known this all along, known it from the moment she saw him lying on the path. Why did she now feign surprise? She had seen enough of soldiers in. .i got there about tea time and we just sat around talking and drinking the wine then Craig brought out the strong stuff some fine whiskey,Craig liked his whiskey neat but not for me i had to have some rocks in it to wet it a little,Tracy said are we going to eat or we just getting pissed and spilling the gossip,,Craig said fuck it lets just get mashed what would your say?? nothing mate she will be out cold when i get in,she knows i,m round here and i,m off work this week..the alcohol was. More

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