In the bedroom of a cottage, on the edge of a village in the heart of the English countryside, an alarm clock was 'beep-beep-beeping'. The sound got louder the longer it went on, until – suddenly – it stopped. From beneath the warmth of the quilt an arm had surfaced, its hand fumbling around on the bedside cupboard in search of the alarm clock that had once again rudely interrupted his slumber. The forefinger and middle finger of the searching hand finally found the snooze button, and silence fell upon the room again. Read on...
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