A fashionable expedition of Uncle Frits and Aunt Coby (1)
On this early spring morning, Uncle Frits
slowly opens his left eye as the sheet tickles his nose. It's still too deep in the pillow. Uncle is sure, there's something that woke him up. But what? A sound?
With obvious reluctance, he raises his head a few centimeters to look in the direction of the suspected malfunction. His Attempts to sharpen his vision are successful, the shapeless form near the wardrobe slowly but surely turns into Aunt Coby.
If he had hoped that he could now descend on the pillow to continue to sleep.