Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Blackbird, orange socks and telling.

1. Blackbird not willing to leave his place on the fence as I pass. I look him right in the yellow-rimmed eye.

2. Small boy runs down a quiet street. Luminous orange socks.

3. No more secrets.

Novel, coming back and ready for December.

1. In the early hours, I'm awake, all alone -- but I've got a new novel on my library app: a fenland gothic Saxon mystery called Mer...