all through that summer it rained, deep green, salty rain which fell in sheets so suddenly and so heavy the world became blurred... and so the lost settled in, roosting in the blue china and between the sheets...
It has been raining for so long now, deep grey days, thunder rolling in, I love this weather, its great for a cup of tea and a book, not so good for light, or long walks or pretty skirts... its writing weather, I'm trying to progress my narratives, unsuccessfully, I may just leave it for now and work on my dissertation, I need to get it out of the way...
Narratives and Fairy Tales in the Visual Arts, eugh so much work to do!
She could call up a storm with a single thread of her raven hair...
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