“Sunday in New York” is ultimately a story about trust, and what happens when a marriage is stretched to its limits.
When Harry Steele attends a lunch with his manager, Barclay, to discuss a promotion that any junior executive would accept in a heartbeat, it is the fact his wife, Alison, who previously professed her reservations about Barclay, also agreed to attend, that casts a small element of doubt in his mind.
From that moment, his life, in the company, in deciding what to do, his marriage, his very life, spirals out of control.
There is no one big factor that can prove Harry’s worst fears, that his marriage is over, just a number of small, interconnecting events, when piled on top of each other, points to a cataclysmic end to everything he had believed in.
Trust is lost firstly in his best friend and mentor, Andy, who only hints of impending disaster, Sasha, a woman whom he saved, and who appears to have motives of her own, and then in his wife, Alison, as he discovered piece by piece damning evidence she is about to leave him for another man.
Can we trust what we see with our eyes or trust what we hear?
Haven’t we all jumped to conclusions at least once in our lives?
Can Alison, a woman whose self-belief and confidence is about to be put to the ultimate test, find a way of proving their relationship is as strong as it has ever been?
For a story that was conceived during those long boring hours flying in a steel cocoon, striving to keep away the thoughts that the plane and everyone in it could just simply disappear as planes have in the past, it has come a long way.
Whilst I have always had a fascination with what happened during the second world war, not the battles or fighting, but in the more obscure events that took place, I decided to pen my own little sidebar to what was a long and bitter war.
And, so, it continues…
——
Mayer was woken by the abrupt jolting of the guard van, and for a few moments was disorientated. It was no longer dark, and the light was coming in through the cracks of the windows, and he could see now the van was quite old and battered.
And that odd smell was the residue of many fires in the potbelly stove, that presumably kept the guard warm in winter. There were a few scattered coals on the floor.
Then he remembered he was in the van and it felt like it was being connected to a shunting loco.
That, and the sound of voices outside the van.
“How long has this lot been sitting here?”
“Three weeks, the shunting crew seem to have just forgotten about these wagons. They were supposed to be sent back south months ago.”
Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps on the stones outside.
Mayer slipped down off the bunk, taking the blanket with him, and looked for somewhere to hide. There was a door in the panel under the bed; he opened it and saw an empty space.
It was not very big, and in places, daylight could be seen through cracks in the outside wall. It was smelly but manageable, and he wriggled into the space and jammed the door closed so if they tried to open it, it would not, and they would assume it had not been used in a long time. Or he was hoping that’s what they’d think.
Just in time, steps on the ladder, and the door bang open.
“Ghastly, it’s ready for the scrap heap.”
“It’s for the war effort, even scrap is good. You staying?”
“Until they hook it up, but outside. This place feels like someone died in it.”
Mayer squirmed until he was in a more comfortable position, thankful that the space was large enough to stretch out, though cold.
He could see through the cracks, back up the track where another train was waiting.
His watch said it was near seven in the morning, and that mean he had slept for about four hours. He had intended to get off before anyone would notice, but it was too late for that now.
At least he would be going in the right direction, it was just a matter of where the wagons would end up. Maybe he would get lucky, and that would be Florence.
But, the chances were he would be discovered before then because if the man who had boarded before was going to stay with the train, the chances were he’d come back to the van, it would very likely he’d explore out of sheer boredom, and that would include that space behind the door.
For now, though, the two men were still outside beside the van, waiting for the signal to get aboard.
Another hour passed before there was more clanking and jolting as another engine connected to the wagons. It was only a matter of time before the men came back.
A minute passed, two, five, ten, then the shrill sound of the whistle of a steam engine, followed by the stretching of wagon joiners and the slow movement forward. The men had not returned, but, Mayer knew, they were aboard the train somewhere.
For the moment, it didn’t matter. With each passing minute, he was closer to his objective, Florence.
It was slow progress, with a stop nearly once an hour, shunted aside while a more important train raced by. People going about their business as if there was no war. Mayer had time to lament his foolishness of being swept up inthe fervor of restoring the Reich to its rightful place in the world.
It had also sounded legitimate, but, as it wore on, the news that they were winning the war and it would all be over soon, turned to disenchantment. They could not have so many victories and not have won already.
Several of his friends had private said they believed the war was going badly, hence the pressure on his group to create better weapons so they could turn the tide. Of course, no one would openly say things were going bad, that would invite the Gestapo on your doorstep, but people were beginning to suspect.
Mayer was not the first to consider turning himself over to the other side before it was too late.
The sporadic stop-start motion of the train went on all day, and into the night, after passing through several large rail yards, and cities. He couldn’t be sure, but he believed they had passed through Verona, and then hours later, Bologna.
At Bologna, the stay was protracted, and once again the men came to the wagon, and this time, as he feared, they had a look around, rattled the door that he had barricaded, and at least they didn’t stay, one of them saying it had probably rusted with age.
Still, he didn’t breathe again until they left.
Nighttime, and very cold, he tried to get comfortable, and finally fell into a fitful sleep.
A picture can paint a thousand words, or more, or less, but…
…
The interesting thing about a place in the dark, in the distance, and behind a chain wire fence usually means something. Especially when there are mysterious lights involved.
We were at a night sports event, watching over a thousand screaming and yelling kids from five to eighteen pretending to compete in a variety of athletic events.
I was there to nominally to support my granddaughter in her endeavours, but right at that moment, on the far side of the track, what I was really there to see was what was behind the wire fence
“Are you watching, Poppy?”
Well, at that moment I wasn’t, but I did turn just in time to see her clear a meter high high jump and execute an elegent backflip, a result no doubt of the ballet training she had since the age of four. Seven years later those lessons had transformed into a high jumper with a great future.
Except, she couldn’t really care less. It was more about the parents and athletic organisers expectations, than hers. I was there, she told me in a secretive tone, to tell everyone to back off.
if you think spying was a dangerous occupation, then let me tell you trying to navigate a safe path between child and parents, and then the rest of the word, forget it.
So, with my trusty phone camera, slightly modified, I was pretending to take pictures of surrounding trees in the high density lighting for the athletics oval, whilst zooming in on the real target.
And, about to take the money shot, I could feel a tugging on the side of my jacket.
I looked down to see the petulant face of a child not happy.
“You said you were coming to see me perform.”
I had. I looked over at the woman the boss had assigned as my ‘date’, Nancy, and whom I’d introduced as a long time friend who deigned to suffer my invitation so she could meet the girl I was always talking about.
“Yes, Poppy,” she said with an evil undertone. “You said you wanted to see her high jumps. You’d better get over there, while I take some pictures of the trees for you.”
“Why do you want pictures of dumb old trees?” That was a question I would have asked myself, and I didn’t quite have an answer for it.
Nancy did. “Because he’s odd like that. It’s one of the quirks I like about him.” She took the camera out of my hand and shooed us off.
And, heading back to the high jump, she asked, “What’s a quirk?”
“Just ask your father later. He knows all about quirks.”
I’m back home and this story has been sitting on a back burner for a few months, waiting for some more to be written.
The trouble is, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.
But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.
Chasing leads, maybe
“Who’s coming?” snapped Maury.
“Some nice men in white coats, to take you away to a dark and dank hole somewhere in this city where you may tell us what you know, or you might not survive the experience. You got one shot at the easy way, now it looks like it’s going to be the hard way.”
I had to admire her. She had gone all gung-ho on him and, frankly, it was a frightening side to her that you wouldn’t normally see, or even guess that she had.
“This is a big mistake, Jackson. I suggest you call Severin and get this straightened out very quickly.”
“I’m going to call him, eventually. After I find the USB and see what’s on it. What it is that you seem to be so desperate to get to first?”
“That’s a matter of national security.”
“I suspect it’s a matter that involves you and Severin. O’Connell was working for a man called Nobbin. He runs another department, it’s starting to sound like there are wheels within wheels, who’s part in all of this I’m yet to understand.”
“He’s after the USB too?”
“Of course. If it’s evidence against you, and or others conspiring to do God knows what, he probably needs to know so he can put a stop to it. Apparently, since no one has heard of you or your operation, I’ve been transferred to his department.”
“How do you know the information is not about him? It’s not unheard of for an agent to discovered irregularities against his commander.”
“Then let’s hope I find the USB first. And, just out of curiosity, why did you kill O’Connell. Wouldn’t it be a better idea to capture him and make sure he had the USB before you did anything irrational.”
“It wasn’t my idea.”
“That’s what most of the Nazi’s said at Nuremberg.”
There was a knock on her door.
Jan went over and opened it. It was, I thought, the wrong thing to do when we had a man as dangerous as Maury in the room.
Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, I could say it was the wrong thing to do, but at the time, even I didn’t think Severin would know what was happening to his attach dog.
Apparently, he did.
The door crashed open sending Jan into a fall that saw her head hit by the swinging door. Three men with guns came bursting in, followed by a fourth, Severin.
Severin took in the room with a single sweep, then glared at me. “You need to pick a side, and soon, Jackson.”
One of the other men cut the ties and helped Maury to his feet. He also glared at me as he left with the other two. “You’ll keep,” Maury muttered as he went past, then was gone.
Severin looked at Jan, now a crumpled heap on the floor.
“Don’t play with MI5. They never see the big picture. Maury doesn’t forget, Jackson, so there will be a reckoning later. I suggest you find a way of redeeming yourself in his eyes. Perhaps it would be better if you cut ties with Nobbin and disappeared for a while. This matter is too big for a newbie like you.”
I heard a groan by the door, Jan waking.
“Just keep out of the way, Jackson. And her, if she knows what’s good for her.”
He left, closing the door behind him.
I went over to Jan and checked to see what injuries she had other than to her pride. A gash on the side of the head, with a little blood. It would give her a huge headache though.
“I’ll get a wet towel,” I said, helping her into a sitting position.
She still looked groggy.
“What happened?”
“You answered the door before finding out who was on the other side.”
“Maury?”
“Gone. He must have signaled Severin somehow that he was in trouble, or they were tracking him. Either way, they got here rather quickly to rescue him.”
“My people?”
“Not here yet.”
I left her to find a towel and run water over one end.
When I came back, she was on her phone, having got up off the floor. She still looked quite shaken.
“Yes, sir.” was all I heard of the conversation before she disconnected the call.
“Did you call off the collection team?”
“They weren’t coming. They said apparently I had rung back to say it was a false alarm.”
“And they believed that?”
“Whoever called had my special code, so yes, they did.”
Call finished, she sat down in one of the chairs and pressed the wet part of the towel against her head.
“Next time you might consider looking first before opening the door,” I said, realizing that it was not the advice she would be looking for.
“It’s a mistake I won’t make again, I can assure you,” she said. “but, we haven’t lost him yet.”
“How so?”
“I slipped a tracker onto his clothes, not one he’ll easily recognize or find, and as we speak, he’s being tracked through outer London. We’ll soon know where he’s going, and perhaps second time lucky.”
She was more resourceful than I would normally give anyone credit for.
Now it was a matter of waiting. Would he lead us to the heart of Severin’s operation? Only time would tell.
Master English Grammar Without the Headache: Simplified Rules for Real-World Success
English grammar can feel like a labyrinth of rules, exceptions, and quirks. But what if you could cut through the complexity and focus on just the essentials? Whether you’re a language learner, a writer, or someone who wants to communicate with confidence, this post will simplify grammar basics into actionable, easy-to-remember tips. Let’s turn “how-tos” into “how-easies.”
Why Grammar Feels Overwhelming (and How to Fix It)
English grammar isn’t inherently impossible, but its irregularities and exceptions can trip anyone up. The key to mastering it lies in simplifying the basics and practising consistently. Here’s how to tackle the most critical areas with confidence.
1. Subject-Verb Agreement: Match Like Clockwork
Rule: A singular subject needs a singular verb; a plural subject needs a plural verb.
Singular: The cat paws at the door.
Plural: The cats paw at the door.
Common Mistake: Forgetting to adjust the verb when the subject is plural.
The team are late.
The team is late. (Collective nouns like team often take singular verbs.)
2. Tenses: Stay in Your Time Zone
Rule: Use the correct verb form to show when an action happened.
Present: I write every day.
Past: I wrote yesterday.
Future: I will write tomorrow.
Pro Tip: Tenses shift in conditionals and habitual actions.
Present Continuous for Future Plans: I am writing a blog post tonight.
3. Articles: “A,” “An,” and “The” Made Simple
Rule:
Use “a” before words starting with consonants (a book).
Use “an” before vowels (an apple).
Use “the” when referring to a specific noun (the sun).
Common Mistake: Overusing or omitting articles.
“I want to study history.” → “I want to study the history of art.”
4. Prepositions: Follow the Verb, Not Your Brain
Prepositions (e.g., on, in, at) often tie directly to verbs. Learn common pairs instead of second-guessing.
Depend on someone.
Wait for me.
Memory Hack: Watch movies, read books, or listen to songs to internalise how native speakers pair verbs and prepositions.
5. Punctuation: Keep It Clean
Rule of Thumb: Use commas to separate items in a list or in compound sentences.
“I bought bread, eggs, and milk.”
“I love coffee, but I hate tea.”
Quick Fix: Drop the comma before and in a list unless ending with a conjunction.
6. Commonly Confused Words: Know Your “Its” from “It’s”
Rule:
“It’s” = it + is (contraction: It’s raining).
“Its” = possession (The cat licked its paws).
“Your” vs. “You’re: Your book vs. You’re welcome.
Pro Tip: Replace contractions with full words to double-check.
BONUS: Practice Strategies to Build Confidence
Read Daily: Novels, articles, and even social media expose you to natural grammar patterns.
Write and Revise: Journal for 10 minutes a day; review and correct your own work.
Leverage Tools: Use grammar-check apps (like Grammarly) as a starting point, not a crutch.
Embrace Mistakes: Every error is a chance to learn. Ask for feedback or use free online tools like Grammar Blogs.
Final Thoughts: Grammar is a Tool, Not a Chainsaw
English grammar isn’t here to trip you up—it’s a tool to express your ideas clearly. Focus on the core rules and gradually expand your skills. With practice, what once felt complex will become second nature.
Remember: Native speakers make mistakes too! Confidence and clarity matter more than perfection. So write boldly, speak freely, and keep simplifying.
Got a grammar question? Drop it in the comments—we’ll tackle it together!
This blog post blends actionable advice with a lighthearted tone, making grammar less intimidating and more approachable. By focusing on practical rules and common pitfalls, readers can apply these tips immediately—no labyrinth required!
This is an interesting topic to pop up, especially after the writing of the previous blog post in this series.
I always create legends for my characters, and perhaps the only planning I do for any story is that notion I should know each of the characters inside out so that I have a good idea of where they’re going to go.
There’s no point in suddenly deciding the main character has an allergic reaction to cats. All this stuff needs to be known before putting pen to paper.
Then there are locations. I’m a bit like a movie studio in that I have the script and then send out the scouts to find places to follow the story. In this case, I’m looking for locations and writing the story after I have found them.
All the background work starts to feed the story. I usually have an idea before I start, and rather than sketch it out on a running board, at this beginning stage, nothing is concrete.
Sometimes this creation process can evolve over a long time, or, in others, it could go from a spark of an idea to the first draft complete, in a month.
Like the novel I’m going to write over the course of the 365 days. Just yesterday I was working on the main character’s back story.
What happens when your past finally catches up with you?
…
Christmas is just around the corner, a time to be with family. For Will Mason, an orphan since he was fourteen, it is a time for reflection on what his life could have been, and what it could be.
Until a chance encounter brings back to life the reasons for his twenty years of self-imposed exile from a life only normal people could have. From that moment, Will’s life slowly starts to unravel, and it’s obvious to him that it’s time to move on.
This time, however, there is more at stake.
Will has broken his number one rule: don’t get involved.
With his nemesis, Eddie Jamieson, suddenly within reach, and a blossoming relationship with an office colleague, Maria, about to change everything, Will has to make a choice. Quietly leave, or finally, make a stand.
But as Will soon discovers, when other people are involved there is going to be terrible consequences no matter what choice he makes.
There’s something to be said for a story that starts like a James Bond movie, throwing you straight in the deep end, a perfect way of getting to know the main character, David, or is that Alistair?
A retired spy, well not so much a spy as a retired errand boy, David’s rather wry description of his talents, and a woman that most men would give their left arm for, not exactly the ideal couple, but there is a spark in a meeting that may or may not have been a setup.
But as the story progressed, the question I kept asking myself was why he’d bother.
And, page after unrelenting page, you find out.
Susan is exactly the sort of woman to pique his interest. Then, inexplicably, she disappears. That might have been the end to it, but Prendergast, that shadowy enigma, David’s ex-boss who loves playing games with real people, gives him an ultimatum, find her or come back to work.
Nothing like an offer that’s a double-edged sword!
A dragon for a mother, a sister he didn’t know about, Susan’s BFF who is not what she seems or a friend indeed, and Susan’s father who, up till David meets her, couldn’t be less interested, his nemesis proves to be the impossible dream, and he’s always just that one step behind.
When the rollercoaster finally came to a halt, and I could start breathing again, it was an ending that was completely unexpected.
Master English Grammar Without the Headache: Simplified Rules for Real-World Success
English grammar can feel like a labyrinth of rules, exceptions, and quirks. But what if you could cut through the complexity and focus on just the essentials? Whether you’re a language learner, a writer, or someone who wants to communicate with confidence, this post will simplify grammar basics into actionable, easy-to-remember tips. Let’s turn “how-tos” into “how-easies.”
Why Grammar Feels Overwhelming (and How to Fix It)
English grammar isn’t inherently impossible, but its irregularities and exceptions can trip anyone up. The key to mastering it lies in simplifying the basics and practising consistently. Here’s how to tackle the most critical areas with confidence.
1. Subject-Verb Agreement: Match Like Clockwork
Rule: A singular subject needs a singular verb; a plural subject needs a plural verb.
Singular: The cat paws at the door.
Plural: The cats paw at the door.
Common Mistake: Forgetting to adjust the verb when the subject is plural.
The team are late.
The team is late. (Collective nouns like team often take singular verbs.)
2. Tenses: Stay in Your Time Zone
Rule: Use the correct verb form to show when an action happened.
Present: I write every day.
Past: I wrote yesterday.
Future: I will write tomorrow.
Pro Tip: Tenses shift in conditionals and habitual actions.
Present Continuous for Future Plans: I am writing a blog post tonight.
3. Articles: “A,” “An,” and “The” Made Simple
Rule:
Use “a” before words starting with consonants (a book).
Use “an” before vowels (an apple).
Use “the” when referring to a specific noun (the sun).
Common Mistake: Overusing or omitting articles.
“I want to study history.” → “I want to study the history of art.”
4. Prepositions: Follow the Verb, Not Your Brain
Prepositions (e.g., on, in, at) often tie directly to verbs. Learn common pairs instead of second-guessing.
Depend on someone.
Wait for me.
Memory Hack: Watch movies, read books, or listen to songs to internalise how native speakers pair verbs and prepositions.
5. Punctuation: Keep It Clean
Rule of Thumb: Use commas to separate items in a list or in compound sentences.
“I bought bread, eggs, and milk.”
“I love coffee, but I hate tea.”
Quick Fix: Drop the comma before and in a list unless ending with a conjunction.
6. Commonly Confused Words: Know Your “Its” from “It’s”
Rule:
“It’s” = it + is (contraction: It’s raining).
“Its” = possession (The cat licked its paws).
“Your” vs. “You’re: Your book vs. You’re welcome.
Pro Tip: Replace contractions with full words to double-check.
BONUS: Practice Strategies to Build Confidence
Read Daily: Novels, articles, and even social media expose you to natural grammar patterns.
Write and Revise: Journal for 10 minutes a day; review and correct your own work.
Leverage Tools: Use grammar-check apps (like Grammarly) as a starting point, not a crutch.
Embrace Mistakes: Every error is a chance to learn. Ask for feedback or use free online tools like Grammar Blogs.
Final Thoughts: Grammar is a Tool, Not a Chainsaw
English grammar isn’t here to trip you up—it’s a tool to express your ideas clearly. Focus on the core rules and gradually expand your skills. With practice, what once felt complex will become second nature.
Remember: Native speakers make mistakes too! Confidence and clarity matter more than perfection. So write boldly, speak freely, and keep simplifying.
Got a grammar question? Drop it in the comments—we’ll tackle it together!
This blog post blends actionable advice with a lighthearted tone, making grammar less intimidating and more approachable. By focusing on practical rules and common pitfalls, readers can apply these tips immediately—no labyrinth required!
50 photographs, 50 stories, of which there is one of the 50 below.
They all start with –
A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:
And, the story:
Have you ever watched your hopes and dreams simply just fly away?
Everything I thought I wanted and needed had just left in an aeroplane, and although I said I was not going to, i came to the airport to see the plane leave. Not the person on it, that would have been far too difficult and emotional, but perhaps it was symbolic, the end of one life and the start of another.
But no matter what I thought or felt, we had both come to the right decision. She needed the opportunity to spread her wings. It was probably not the best idea for her to apply for the job without telling me, but I understood her reasons.
She was in a rut. Though her job was a very good one, it was not as demanding as she had expected, particularly after the last promotion, but with it came resentment from others on her level, that she, the youngest of the group would get the position.
It was something that had been weighing down of her for the last three months, and if noticed it, the late nights, the moodiness, sometimes a flash of temper. I knew she had one, no one could have such red hair and not, but she had always kept it in check.
And, then there was us, together, and after seven years, it felt like we were going nowhere. Perhaps that was down to my lack of ambition, and though she never said it, lack of sophistication. It hadn’t been an issue, well, not until her last promotion, and the fact she had to entertain more, and frankly I felt like an embarrassment to her.
So, there it was, three days ago, the beginning of the weekend, and we had planned to go away for a few days and take stock. We both acknowledged we needed to talk, but it never seemed the right time.
It was then she said she had quit her job and found a new one. Starting the following Monday.
Ok, that took me by surprise, not so much that it something I sort of guessed might happen, but that she would just blurt it out.
I think that right then, at that moment, I could feel her frustration with everything around her.
What surprised her was my reaction. None.
I simply asked where who, and when.
A world-class newspaper, in New York, and she had to be there in a week.
A week.
It was all the time I had left with her.
I remember I just shrugged and asked if the planned weekend away was off.
She stood on the other side of the kitchen counter, hands around a cup of coffee she had just poured, and that one thing I remembered was the lone tear that ran down her cheek.
Is that all you want to know?
I did, yes, but we had lost that intimacy we used to have when she would have told me what was happening, and we would have brainstormed solutions. I might be a cabinet maker but I still had a brain, was what I overheard her tell a friend once.
There’s not much to ask, I said. You’ve been desperately unhappy and haven’t been able to hide it all that well, you have been under a lot of pressure trying to deal with a group of troglodytes, and you’ve been leaning on Bentley’s shoulder instead of mine, and I get it, he’s got more experience in that place, and the politics that go with it, and is still an ally.
Her immediate superior and instrumental in her getting the position, but unlike some men in his position he had not taken advantage of a situation like some men would. And even if she had made a move, which I doubted, that was not the sort of woman she was, he would have politely declined.
One of the very few happily married men in that organisation, so I heard.
So, she said, you’re not just a pretty face.
Par for the course for a cabinet maker whose university degree is in psychology. It doesn’t take rocket science to see what was happening to you. I just didn’t think it was my place to jump in unless you asked me, and when you didn’t, well, that told me everything I needed to know.
Yes, our relationship had a use by date, and it was in the next few days.
I was thinking, she said, that you might come with me, you can make cabinets anywhere.
I could, but I think the real problem wasn’t just the job. It was everything around her and going with her, that would just be a constant reminder of what had been holding her back. I didn’t want that for her and said so.
Then the only question left was, what do we do now?
Go shopping for suitcases. Bags to pack, and places to go.
Getting on the roller coaster is easy. On the beginning, it’s a slow easy ride, followed by the slow climb to the top. It’s much like some relationships, they start out easy, they require a little work to get to the next level, follows by the adrenaline rush when it all comes together.
What most people forget is that what comes down must go back up, and life is pretty much a roller coaster with highs and lows.
Our roller coaster had just come or of the final turn and we were braking so that it stops at the station.
There was no question of going with her to New York. Yes, I promised I’d come over and visit her, but that was a promise with crossed fingers behind my back. After a few months in t the new job the last thing shed want was a reminder of what she left behind. New friends new life.
We packed her bags, three out everything she didn’t want, a free trips to the op shop with stiff she knew others would like to have, and basically, by the time she was ready to go, there was nothing left of her in the apartment, or anywhere.
Her friends would be seeing her off at the airport, and that’s when I told her I was not coming, that moment the taxi arrived to take her away forever. I remember standing there, watching the taxi go. It was going to be, and was, as hard as it was to watch the plane leave.
So, there I was, finally staring at the blank sky, around me a dozen other plane spotters, a rather motley crew of plane enthusiasts.
Already that morning there’s been 6 different types of plane depart, and I could hear another winding up its engines for take-off.
People coming, people going.
Maybe I would go to New York in a couple of months, not to see her, but just see what the attraction was. Or maybe I would drop in, just to see how she was.
As one of my friends told me when I gave him the news, the future is never written in stone, and it’s about time you broadened your horizons.
The team are late.
The team is late. (Collective nouns like team often take singular verbs.)
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 