Monday, March 02, 2009

Bread, sunset and green tea.

1. Pam sends fluffy yellow puris to the table. I sneak out to the kitchen to see her stretching and rolling the dough and frying them so they puff up like clouds.

2. It's hard to resent delays and a snarled journey when the sun is setting orange in a grey sky.

3. Finding a burnt sugar note in my green tea.

Dress, drink and catch-up.

1. Walking out of the theatre, I hold his hand so he's not tempted to bolt across the swirly carpet into the forest of legs. We agree th...