- Joined
- Mar 20, 2020
- Messages
- 469
En retard à la fête
Like a thin ghostly serpent, the mile-long cloud of steam hovered above the metal packhorses, snaking into London.
We hunkered in the Abbey, as a dank gloom shrouded our good city, the heart of the Empire - upon which, the sun would soon set.
When news arrived that our defeat at Waterloo… was greatly exaggerated.
“Marines in Southampton?”
“Seems Wellington’s late to the party!”
The bell rang, with tears we sang, “Better late than never!”
Like a thin ghostly serpent, the mile-long cloud of steam hovered above the metal packhorses, snaking into London.
We hunkered in the Abbey, as a dank gloom shrouded our good city, the heart of the Empire - upon which, the sun would soon set.
When news arrived that our defeat at Waterloo… was greatly exaggerated.
“Marines in Southampton?”
“Seems Wellington’s late to the party!”
The bell rang, with tears we sang, “Better late than never!”