Farewell Gift.

I was remembering an old friend I hadn't seen for a while, Mark.

Mark was tall and handsome but in a very fair, Mike Hawthorn sort of way. He was from the valleys. Hard drinking, rugby boy. I surprised to learn he had a softer side, very artistic and an amazingly accomplished pianist.

What made me smile this morning, was a story he once told me about a rough valleys couple. The 'man' had come home drunk one night, woke his partner up, insisted she cook him something then beat seven bells of shit out of her until she complied with his sexual demands. That night, after he fell asleep, she packed her bags and left him.
That was after she deposited a well aimed 'dump' on his chest.