Early Rising

The stout lady rounded the steps.

‘Breakfast won’t be ready for half an hour,’ she told me, adding ‘but you’re welcome to eat early.’

The town’s most haunted inn had not offered any surprises. Established in 1681, and ghost rich, I’d seen nothing - but had slept well and awoken early.

I consoled myself with a small cigar. The early breakfast was delightful too.

I was on my way out at 8 am.

‘Are you having breakfast?’ asked the landlady, pleasantly.

‘I took breakfast earlier,’ I told her.

‘I don't see how!’ She said. ‘The staff are only just coming in.’