Despite having spent an age arranging the blind so that she could sit on the rug with her back to the sofa and watch the morning light dance within their slatted lengths, she found herself under heavy cloud, brewing, quite unable to play. She laid the cold horn on the sofa, scooped up her shades … Continue reading Birdsong of The Spoons.
We are waiting for the driver to finish his smoke. He paces the concrete. The bus is half-full. There is quiet chat and nobody grumbles. This is how it is in a small seaside town. The bus service is limited. It is a luxury. We wait with our bags of shopping. We wait with … Continue reading Seagull Sips Cappuccino