Thomas Gainsborough The Morning Walk

Thomas Gainsborough The Morning WalkThomas Gainsborough The Harvest WagonThomas Gainsborough Cottage Girl with Dog and Pitcher
Arthur sighed.
It was no life, or half-life or after-life or whatever it was, being a lower-middle-class wholesale fruit and vegetable merchant with an upper-class condition.
And then the music filtered in through the hole in the wall that he’d knocked out to put in the barred window.
‘Ow,’ he said, and clutched at his jaw. ‘Doreen?’
Reg Shoe thumped his portable podium.
‘- and, let He paused, just in case.
The raven, which was one of the extra large, fat ones that infested the rooftops of the University, put its head on one side and gave Reg Shoe a thoughtful look.
‘You know,’ said Reg, ‘sometimes I just feel like giving up -‘ The raven cleared its throat.
Reg Shoe spun around.me see, we shall not lie back and let the grass grow over our heads,’ he bellowed.’So what is your seven-point plan for Equal Opportunities with the living, I hear you cry?’The wind blew the dried grasses in the cemetery.The only creature apparently paying any attention to Reg was a solitary raven.Reg Shoe shrugged and lowered his voice. ‘You might at least make some effort,’ he said, to the next world at large.’Here’s me wearing my fingers to the bone’ - he flexed his hands to demonstrate - ‘and do I hear a word of thanks?’