When Maggie had insisted on travelling out of the town and to the seaside Dirk had been resistant.
They were tourists and though it all appeared quite civilized at the resort; there was no telling what really went on.
Now, peering inside the cafe, Dirk felt his comment was justified for although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.
“Alright Dirk, they eat using they’re feet but we can live with it, can’t we? I’m awful hungry.”
She was right of course.
“As long as they washed them,” Dirk offered smugly, having the last word.
© Deb Whittam 2020