Quiet time

Quietly waiting, the calm before the storm and boy do I love a good storm. Holding a cane between my lips, blindfolded, listening for Sirs movements around the room. A cupboard opening, a jingle of the metal hoops on my collar or was it the clips on the suspension cuffs?  Seconds tick by as I wait patiently for play and then Sir speaks. The rumble of thunder as the storm begins. Oh yes, here we go. 

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