Spiller, bluebells and elastic.

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1. There is a garden on Mount Ephraim where grape hyacinth bulbs have spilled over the wall and forced themselves into gaps in the pavement cobbles.

2. There on the edge of the path, looking breathless, squashed and dusty, some early bluebells.

3. There is satisfaction, I suppose, in threading elastic through a waistband, pulling the rucked cloth flat along the length.

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