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Do not ride the bus at dawn. Turning into the lamp light only the dead heads of a hydrangea nodded back. The voice unmistakably that of J.B. Priestly in an aged radio recording I had still cornered in my head. I googled hydrangea and though I recognized the many…
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Mr. and Mrs. Brown Bunny lived in a beautiful house
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Believe me time is always looking for things to do. Like the silence... of the rain...under a bridge...on the A49. A pulse unlike the tired tone of the tunnel. Or counting rubber in the rain. An insomniac game. Maybe these silences…
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I thought the light a sun but I was wrong. Again as in so many ways. The focus moved on but for where the scratch in a small mountain range bellied up. A noncommittal air settled in the valley and fruit was raised to be so many cows. Culled across the…
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The other two volumes are the ideal size, maybe, could have been even very slightly smaller, but this “Extraordinary” Vaginas volume three book is much smaller. Had the first two been as I say smaller, then volume three would not have seemed…
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