Colours, shapes, movement : flowers in the crematorium grounds lashed by wind and rain.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
78 RPM
I wake up today to discover that I have become 78. How nice that would be if it meant I could spin around faster than ever, or that the re...
-
I've no idea who the child is or why the donkey seems to have lost its head, but that doesn't matter. It's just one of the pri... -
Y ou can spend too long sat inside reading old newspapers and cataloguing old postcards. There comes a time in the affairs of man when he s...
No comments:
Post a Comment