Untitled.III Skipped a snippet, but the saga continues: The wind gushed in as he opened the door, briefly exposing the cosy red-carpeted hallway to the unwelcome elements outside. Now, growing up in England has a determined affect on any young boy, regardless of social position, and Jack was no exception. Aside from the trivialities, Jack had obtained a solid love of all-things-cricket, an appetite for tea - no milk - and, most importantly for current situation in which he found himself; a thick skin for weather. Be it wind, rain, or catastrophic snow drift, the same ingrained response of 'Bit chilly out here' or 'could do with a dash of rain, keeps the Fusias happy'. And in hand with a verbal shrug-off would inevitably be the materialistic preparations of a thick coat or umbrella. Today was no different. Upon crossing the threshold and returning to the shelter of his castle, Jack hung up his dripping coat and doffed his sodden shoes, mumbling something about cleansing the skin. It was this preoccupation could with some diving whiff of frying sausage that drew Jack away from a thus far unnoticed letter-lain doormat and towards the kitchen... To be continued