Henry

“Don’t rock the boat” she said throwing up into a blue bucket on the cold cement floor overheard by the laughing zebras presenting their striped flanks to the combined symphonic majesty of towering umbrellas battling for omnipresence on the long arm of the chinese beach front shop picture balanced ‘oh so neatly’ capping the tumbler of quaint pale blue quail eggs half submerged in the best scotch money could find.

“Don’t rock the boat, Henry”

Henry couldn’t agree more or less. Dead Henry had rocked the boat. She didn’t like this and though now regretting her actions promptly threw up into a blue bucket on the cold cement floor………………