Tuesday, 1 June 2010

The Westwich Writers Club. 16

It was ten thirty by the time Stephen got home. He parked his car in his usual spot at the front of the building and let himself in with his passkey. As he opened the door to his flat he heard a voice from behind.

'You keep stranger hours than me, Stephen.'

Stephen turned, a big smile across his face.

'I've been to a special meeting of my writers club, for some reason they want me on the committee.'

'It's nice to be wanted,' said Charlie. 'You're very much wanted here too, my laptop has lost the plot, could you have a look at it please? I wouldn't bother you at this time of night usually, but there's a report on it that I need tomorrow, I'll be for the high jump if I don't hand it in on time.'

'No worries, I'll take a look at it now.'