The Coffin

“What are you doing, Joe?” Daisy asked. “I’m making a coffin.” “A coffin! For whom, pray tell?” “You.” “Me!  Why on earth are you making a coffin for me?” “An inchworm made me do it.” “An inchworm?  Joe, I think you’ve been having too much of that ghastly port wine.  It’s affecting your brain–what’s left… Read More The Coffin