We pulled our heavy overcoats tightly around us, shivering, and put our heads down as the din of fighting stopped for a while to grab an eyeful of sleep.
A random American off the street couldn't tell the difference.
An excellent piece of work, Wayne thought, so good in fact, he wasn’t surprised when Bailey walked to the plate and on the first pitch jacked the ball far into the parking lot outside the left-field fence for a tournament winning homerun.
And think of the chuntey. There you are, quietly setting up your shiny new ZX Methuselah, your mum walks into the room and suddenly you're 112 and she wants you to read her a story about ponies.
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