Champagne continues, six sentences at a time (well, technically nine this time, but I really couldn’t separate the last three. She fixed a pair of
I made a separate page to follow the continuation of Champagne more easily as it progresses every Sunday. Here’s the next instalment. I resorted to
Part 1 here >> Part 2 here >> Part 3 here >> The fingers of her right hand, the one closest to me, sported three
Part 1 here >> Part 2 here >> Nevertheless, I walked in and ordered a glass of champagne. I picked a stool two seats down
Part 1 here >> She drank champagne as if it was the least celebratory drink on the planet, exuding a sort of world-weariness that can
