Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Point, prints and push.

1. At the first stroke, the sharp new point on my pencil pops and crumbles into a tiny constellation, black on white.

2. Dry morning. No-one in sight. Dew wet footprints on the path get fainter step by step.

3. One last push late at night to finish my day's proofreading.

Cold remedy, simultaneously and delivery.

1. Decongestants are a modern-day miracle. 2. As I wave her off, two things happen: our neighbour's daughter comes out of their front do...