Wednesday, 3 June 2009
A space, shooshes and chimes
Bit of this
I manage to get a parking place , I am late but then so is everybody else. The M40 is still snarled up hours later.
Shooshes blow around the dinner hall startling me and stopping the children mid munch. Chief shoosher knows how to throw her voice around on account of her opera skills. No wonder he pleaded with me to stay.
Delicate chiming notes follow the wind through the hedge.
Bit of that