Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Burning, birch and pursuit.

1. The chilli in his sweat burns my fingertips.

2. Weeping birch with a silver water drop on every twig tip and fork.

3. A blue sprite of exhaust chases the car up the road.

Follow Her, no birds and Burns Night.

1. I am intrigued by an article in The Guardian  about psychic phone lines, and then by the author's upcoming thriller about a toxic lif...