Fiber and aridity
“Fiber, of course I have enough fibre in my diet.”
“No, not that sort of Fiber, I said have you thought of Fiber Optic cables for your internet.”
“I always have wholemeal bread, and plenty of vegetables. I don’t need any more thank you.”
He grinned as the salesman seemed lost for words. God, he hated people knocking on the door when he was watching Death in Paradise. It had just got to the part where the murderer was revealed.
The aridity of the day was making his bones ache, standing in the doorway. His beer was going warm with this man’s constant barrage about the internet. Still he kept on and on about the necessity of these Fiber cables.
“You will save money if you sign up today . . .”
‘Sign a petition, about lack of fibre. I mean the government never listens anyway. When I were a lad, we could rely on the politicians. Churchill, now there is a man with morals, I mean I could talk all day about the war.”
Seconds later, and in a dash for freedom, the salesman was gone. Bill shut his door, and tears rolled across his weathered cheek. That was the funniest sight he had seen in years. The guy was in such a hurry, he nearly forgot to open the gate.