With the softness of morning dew, sunlight graced the pages of my book, each ray filtered through delicate freshly leafing trees. Birds burst into short whims of song and the shimmer of greenery in a light breeze surrounded the patio with living silence. I rubbed the drowsiness out of my eyes, sipping that essential first cup of coffee.
"Don't stop reading on my behalf," he said as he joined me on the patio. "I love that you need to read."
"They employed crossword enthusiasts as code breakers during the Second World War! Crossword enthusiats?" I looked up from the pages of my book, tipping my head to the side like a confused pup.
"Do you do crosswords?" he asked.
"Never."
"I think it was the fall of 1994 when the UK released what is now known as the hardest crossword. They don't publish the results, the way American papers did. People were so frustrated, the paper was getting death threats. I'll write it out for you, and let you agonize over it a while. When I explain the answer, you'll see how crossword enthusiats could be employed by the army as code breakers."
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If you don't know this famous answer, email me.
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