Dreaming of a Different Life where I'm Married to the Man Across the Road Who Looks a Bit Like Prince Charles.

4pm. Sandra took the air freshener out of her desk drawer and sprayed the room liberally. The stench of teenage sweat was immediately masked by Glade - the scent of the rainforest. Teaching was probably not the most prudent choice of career for someone who hated children she reflected once again. But, Sandra loved the holidays and their potential for visiting to museums, collecting shells from the beach at Morecambe, and spending all afternoon looking out of her attic window on the off chance that the handsome silver-haired gentleman from number sixty four, across the road, would be out in his garden. He always seemed to decide to do his gardening during a thunder storm, and Sandra loved to watch him straining to trim the unruly privet hedge at the front, or exerting his dominance over the bush outside his front door, the rain dripping down his face and running off the wax jacket he wore that made him look a little like an older Prince Charles...