In a good drama there is always a sinister and stormy cliff to throw the dead body from.
In this particular drama, all we had was the sofa.
Admittedly, it was a sinister sofa. It might have been gathering itself for a storm, too.
After all, the conversation had turned thundery.
Someone said what makes for a community?
When people gather together in adversity somebody else said.
But she was very drunk.
I threw in 'bingo' to be provocative.
I stood on the sofa so as to close the red velvet curtain across the window and draw a close on this first act.
The sofa tried to swallow me. To suck me down between its leather lips into its cushion mouth never to be seen again.
No-one noticed. Or minded.