Friday, August 08, 2008

Fruit, flock and figs.

1. A red-gold Victoria plum. The skin is the colour of a faded bruise, and the flesh reminds me of teatime sunlight.

2. Passing a church we catch the moment when shining butterflies of confetti hang in the air.

3. Cutting up a fat ball of mozzarella and eating it with warm figs.

Wet walk, morning tea and detectives.

1. My trousers are soaked after my walk in the rain. I put on a dry pair and feel the chill leaving my legs. 2. She has time for a cuppa and...