Chocolate

It was the general consensus among his brothers that he must be addicted. And maybe he was. But John didn't care. Chocolate was chocolate was chocolate, and that, as far as he was concerned, was that.

There was nothing- in John's opinion- like settling down with a telescope pressed to your eye, a notebook in your lap, and a mountain of chocolate bars to keep you going through the night as you stargazed. It had started when Grandma insisted he take a couple of bars with him the first time he went out into the fields stargazing on his own. She told him it would give him the extra energy she feared her "delicate" grandson would need to combat the cold, clear night. John had resented her description of him, but the moment the first sweet corner touched his tongue, John decided that being the "runt of the litter," as Scott playfully called him, definitely had its advantages.

Even now, when he was safe and warm inside Thunderbird Five, with his state-of-the-art telescope glued to his face, he still kept a pile of chocolate bars beside him, to munch through as he searched for something new.

And no one, not even Gordon, had been able to work out where he hid his stash yet.

Since tomorrow's New Year and a big family day for my lot, have two snippets today, and a Happy New Year when it comes :)