The night was dark, and the cold wind blew against the shimmering Christmas lights hung in the stark trees silhouetted against the shrouded street lamp across the dimly lit street. There came a deep rumbling motor sound and squealing brakes as the motor coach driver rushed through his route, far later into the evening than he wanted out on the pitch dark freezing roads. Dogs inside the warm house, snug in their beds with furry tails covering their cold wet leathery noses, roused with the rumbling motor coach sounds and barked loud excited warning barks. Cat shadows flew against the dark ancient wainscot panels into the deep nether regions of the dark cold house, upset by the baying of the alerting hounds.
Suddenly. There came a pounding knock on the wooden door, wild careening dog sounds exploded from beasts that reminded me of the noise as if the Furies of Hell were entering the sacred realm of house and hearth.
Once the massive estate mastiffs were silenced and the huge drawbridge doors were opened, it was obvious a small but ornate package from the depths of the wild Amazon had been placed on the doorstep leading to the mansion’s entry.
My Word Play Book had arrived! Yay!