Together they would bubble and steam, the sounds emitting from the room like a chorus calling us in for elevenses and afternoon tea. Or so we called our tea breaks in those days. A quick cuppa and a biscuit.
And, after someone remarked that they were like siren calls, the singing began. Pop songs and folk songs, hymns from our schooldays, even a national anthem or two, got sung as we sat about enjoying our tea, often too wired to have “proper” conversations.
We met there - our eyes meeting, smiles exchanged, as we sung the first line of Autumn Days.
Written for Friday Fictioneers from the following picture prompt (see here for other stories):
PHOTO PROMPT © Jen Pendergast
