Lake Of The Dead.

It is a few minutes after five o’clock on the last day of July 1991. The air is still, humid. That stifling torpor of mid summer lethargy. Slowly, I am making my way along a narrow spit that juts out into the lake. I am already sweating and the sun hasn’t even begun to lightContinue reading “Lake Of The Dead.”

Cobwebs

I think Sherlock has now forgiven me for waking him from his slumbers for an early morning walk. He is back lying on the sofa on his mountain of carefully assembled cushions; in deep slumber. He hasn’t moved for an hour…at least. Earlier in the half light of dawn we had dragged each other downContinue reading “Cobwebs”