I am enchanted by the ruin. The play of light on brick, receding into darkness. The fountain is a total meditation as I focus and refocus, framing hewn muscle. Best of all is a beautiful elegant woman, the detail when viewed through big boy, is delicate but powerful.
I get lost, ever the opportunist I am on the look out for a shop. Bingo, screaching to a halt, I get my lolly.
Giggling teenagers disappear into darkness. Apparently one has lost her brace down by the rope swings. Torches dart about searching.
Bit of that
Know you limits
recognize your limits and ignore them.
(the little book of stress)
wickedly funny!
Julian and I think that your writing is a curious melange of Roddy Doyle, Magnus Mills and Sue Townsend, all in the best possible way of course.
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