When I called at the residence, I was greeted by a woman clearly past her sell by date. On requesting an audience with the Minister, the woman directed me to a car parked outside, in which, she said, her husband had taken up temporary residence while meditating
“Meditating?’, I queried, raising an eyebrow
‘Yes’, she replied. ‘Meditating on the nature of beauty’
Outside, the minister, sporting what looked suspiciously like a black eye, had lit a small fire in a vain attempt to keep warm.
They say beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. The minister’s eyes had been somewhat blind to his wife’s beauty before but although his
banishment from the house period of meditation and reflection had been for but a short while, already he was beginning to see his wife in a more favourable light (through the one eye that wasn’t swollen and half shut).
“I didn’t mean it’, he said. “Tell her it was a joke”
As I walked back to the house, leaving him huddled over the tiny flickering flame of his fire, I heard a plaintive cry split the still night air . . .
‘I say, You haven’t got any spare coal on you, by any chance?’
[Based on story here]