Friday, 9 March 2007
The first sentence of the book I'm currently reading.When I was still in Amsterdam, I dreamed about my mother for the first time in years.
The first sentence of the last three books I've read.
In the spaces of calm almost lost in what followed, the question of why tended to surface.
It was little more than three miles from the Wall into the Old Kingdom, but that was enough.
It was an odd looking vine.
They Call Them Buttons.
I Wish I Could Make My Own.
But I Don't Know How.
So I Just Cut and Paste.