Monday, November 29, 2010

Sunday morning, warming up and tracking.

1. Nick takes me out for breakfast -- at 10am the streets are Sunday silent and the air is so cold and still that it feels as if we are watching the world through glass.

2. Hot chocolate with a peak of foam on top and flecks of chocolate melting into it.

3. He calls down from the attic: "Darling wife, I can track our pizza on-line!"

Light reading, pie and leaky milk.

1. In the small hours, oppressed by the dark and by thoughts of what is to come, I am profoundly grateful to all authors of lightweight fict...