Sunday, 31 July 2011
Wednesday, 27 July 2011
A found poem
Valmeras loved Raymonde's melancholy charm
She put the gun to her shoulder, calmly took aim and fired
Two huge letters, each perhaps a foot long, appeared cut in relief in the granite of the floor
'We're going out now. What do you think of my cockle-shell, Beautrelet?'
She put the gun to her shoulder, calmly took aim and fired
Two huge letters, each perhaps a foot long, appeared cut in relief in the granite of the floor
'We're going out now. What do you think of my cockle-shell, Beautrelet?'
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
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