There went my former pharmacist. I remember the days when we were good friends. The bell would ring as I entered the apothecary and I would see a gray spectacled head peek from behind the doorway to the back room.
"Charles! How is your wife?"
"Fairly well, thank you. I'm going to need some more of those smelling salts you imported from Bangladesh.
"Ah yes! Fine stuff, hip, hip!"
"She's been struggling lately with the new political climate. Can't seem to take her mind of the imminent destruction that hs been prophesied. She goes into a frenzy and passes out."
"I'm sorry to hear that. What's distressing her so?"
Ah yes... those were the days. He was a great help to me, I wish things had lasted. I will have to frequent another shop now. Church bells are ringing as I walk in the procession for Sir Edmund Wright III, head pharmacist of the Royal Apothecary Society.
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