Maybe … he's doing that hear-no-evil-see-no-evil thing Jamaicans do when they find themselves smack dab in the middle of politricks.

Mrs Smith gave out our assignments, and said we had to finish them by Monday.

The sun climbed higher and beads of moisture formed at her hairline before Sir Hopkin deigned to poke his uglisome head out.

“That's not necessary. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. I would be insanely jealous if my boyfriend suddenly had a perma-boner for someone else. […]