Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Spotted, dark heart and beans.

1. From the window behind my desk, I catch the cyclist I saw riding off yesterday at 5pm locking his bike to the pay and display machine.


2. Shaking an apple to hear the pips (that no-one has ever seen) rattle.

3. Beans on toast: always there when you're working too hard to cook.

Tarry, rolling back and one last taste.

1. Much that I would like to sit and visit for longer packed in with red and crimson cushions and blankets, lit by a bright window and drink...