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.

Shut in, three quick strokes and event.

1. I'm with the glossy white-haired ladies in hot pink and emerald green and china blue linen waiting for the department store to open i...