Culture

By Anonymous (not verified) , 21 August, 2021
A branch smashes on a nearby mudstone slab and the leaves do not rain down politely like this is a wholesome and earthy wedding, they spark as if they are flaming green from an explosion. But the red-haired man is chatting about all the books that are best-selling and wonderful, especially the one about the explorer who climbs the smallest mountains in the world that are still called mountains, and how funny it is!
By Anonymous (not verified) , 10 July, 2021
We were there most days, light chat lapsing into comfortable silence. A dog would pass, or a squirrel run up a man’s leg, and that would set us off again. Then the sun would go and one or the other of us would say he had better be off. Always soon, never tomorrow.