waiting game

Charles and Alex were waiting, had been waiting for most of the day and were now starting to get desperate. for a piss and, ironically, a glass of water. Life often throws these little two handers at you.

If they’d been thinking objectively, they may have taken a moment to absorb the grandeur of the room they were in and maybe asked themselves why the overall commander of the British forces in France, required a gold encrusted Chateau for his H.Q. when there were men at the front, quite literally drowning in mud, under the weight of sodden military fatigues.

They weren’t thinking objectively however and as both came from upper class stock, neither questioned their locale. It looked similar to places they had frequented before joining up, indeed Alex had actually recognised a long deceased relative in a painting on the walk through to their waiting area. The relative in question had been executed during the French revolution, a fact that made Alex smile smugly, as he had never really liked the French side of his family.

“Psst.” Alex turned his head to look at his hissing cousin sat across the hall.

“Shall we get out of here?”

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