The George and Dragon

St George

We live in a changing reality to which we try to adapt ourselves like seaweed bending under the pressure of waters*.

The air was pungent and the sky was dark as thirty-two year-old Lucas White locked the door to his flat and headed off for his regular Saturday night appointment at The George and Dragon.

He was filled with anticipation for this usually predictable occasion, not least of because he and his friends were to be joined by an extremely attractive aerobics instructor called Kiera and her two bosom buddies.

Lucas hoped the evening might lead to a panting embrace in some dark alley or other while he walked Kiera home from the pub.

This embrace would – in his dreams – render her so helplessly overcome by his testosterone-fuelled animal magnetism that she would insist on dragging him upstairs to tear off his clothes, whereupon she would subject him to a naked horizontal (or even vertical) version of one of her sweaty routines.

To an objective bystander this may have sounded like wishful thinking on Lucas’ part, but there was actually a one in three chance that his dreams would come true before midnight.

There was also, however, a two in three chance that he would awaken to a deeper dream before the clock that night reached 11.

*The Leopard, Tomasi Giuseppe de Lampedusa

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